


Is Your Name Waterloo? Because You Make Me Fall.

by urgaylol



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Bad Puns, College AU, Fluff, M/M, Pretentiousness, Smut, Snark and Sarcasm, Terrible Jokes, a few jabs at the 2016 republican presidential canidates, debatchury, debate class au, everything turns into a competition, i made sollux a troll and eridan a human don't sue me, just a bad sense of humor in general, memes that will probably be outdated by the time i post this, not really red rom but not black rom either, rivalrys, there's sex at the end, trolls and humans living together in semi-harmony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-04
Updated: 2016-04-05
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:52:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 28,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6450667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urgaylol/pseuds/urgaylol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Eridan Ampora and you are not going to let some broke, nerdy, over-analytical troll kid pulverize you again in debate class. You weren't obsessed.</p><p>You were a little obsessed.</p><p> </p><p>(What the fuck was I thinking when I named this)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The One Where It Starts

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own Homestuck pls don't sue me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE: yes, it's true that I'm coming out of retirement. It's been so long.

            Your name is Eridan Ampora and you are in deep shit.

            It has all started about two weeks ago in your debate class. Your teacher had decided to make every Friday a debate day, and it was time for the first one. What had started as a friendly debate over the exact definition of Freedom of Speech had erupted into a full-blown cluster fuck on whether or not companies should have the right to refuse service to trolls because of religious reasons. You had led the stance that they should on the grounds that while denying service to certain species wasn’t really a great thing, denying this right would also deny the right to not serve members of certain hate groups. Some overly-analytical troll kid with just a hint of a lisp had argued the fact that the population of trolls to humans was about one-to-three in North America and that the population of people in hate groups was a much less significant number. He also claimed that giving people the right to deny freedom to others was still denying freedom. Or something. Needless to say, he won.

            So you spent the entire next week researching every classic college debate under the sun. You weren’t obsessed. So what if he had beaten you mercilessly at laser-tag on your friend Feferi’s birthday party last month. You didn’t care. You didn’t even know his name. You crushed him when the next Friday rolled around.

            You were a little obsessed.

            But it had all been worth it when you saw the look of awe and disgust after you delivered your three part speech on how although they were both important and should be funded, it was more important to make Physical Education mandatory than The Arts.

            Well, jumping forward to the present, it looked like he had done his research as well. Although not as linguistically articulate as you, he still had a damn good opening to his ‘Why GMOs should always be labeled’ argument.

            You cut in. “I understand your concern for the common person. But, in all honesty, the percentage of people who are even going to bother reading the label is so low that it wouldn’t make a difference. Most people aren’t even clear on what exactly a GMO is.”

            He glares at you. “So what if most people don’t understand it? The only people who are reading the labels will be the ones who actually care. It’s not like printing ‘our product uses GMOs, fuckface’ will cost manufactures billions of dollars that they were about to donate to charity the next day.”

            Ms. Damara looks up, remembering that she’s teaching a class. “Language, Captor.”

            “Sorry.” he continues “Anyway, everyone knows that GMOs are not always safe. Bioethics 101.”

            “There’s plenty of stuff in food that isn’t safe.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to keep fighting; you already know he’s right.

            “Yea, that’s why foods have nutrition facts on the fucking label.”

            “Captor, language.”

            He sighs. “Sorry. But shouldn’t the fact that Monsanto, the most evil company in the world, disagrees with me be enough to make me morally right?”

            “Yes.” says Terezi. Your father works for Monsanto. You’re not sure what you’re angrier about; the fact that Mr. Double Trouble over there just insulted your father’s company or the fact that he’s right to do so.

            If you keep arguing with him about this it’s going to get really pathetic really quickly.

            “Fine, you win.” you say. He smirks.

            “No, he does not win.” says Damara “You’re not the only two people here.”

            “Ok, so the score is two-to-one, my favor.” he says, still grinning like an loser. You hope he’s only smiling because this is his biggest accomplishment of the month.

            Ms. Damara tosses her book in-between you two. “There is no score, it’s a debate! Nobody wins. Class is over, get the fuck out.”

            You get the fuck out.

 

* * *

 

            The week after that, you win the debate on the ethics of animal testing. He scowls at you when you walk by.

            “How is that guy your roommate again?” you ask Karkat.

            He scoffs. “Like you would be any easier to live with.”

            The week after that, you finally tie in a debate. You notice that there seemed to be significantly more people in class this debate day then there were last week.

            The week after that and people who aren’t even in your class have started showing up.

            “Dave, what the fuck are you doing here? You don’t have this class.” you say.

            He laughs. “Dude, you guys are on YouTube now.”

            You’re not sure how you feel about that. “What, why?”

            “I don’t know man, I was just browsing innocently when I say a video called ‘Nerdy Asshole Calls Hipster Douchebag A Shithead _Remix_ ’ and I was like, hey, I know those guys.”

            Karkat scowls at you. “I’m regretting telling you what class it was.”

            “Dude, no fucking way. I’m setting up a betting table next week.”

            “That’s illegal.” you say.

            “Bro, being friends with Terezi gives me a lifetime of not having to worry about the law anymore.”

            “Not it doesn’t!” she shouts from the other end of the hall.

            “Look, I’ll split the profit with both of you guys. It’s fine. I just need you to either beat him or break even next week for any of us to make anything.”’

            He was the Alexander Hamilton to your Thomas Jefferson. The Steve Rogers to your Tony Stark. The Khruschev to your Nixon. The Sonic to your Shadow. One of these is not like the others.

            It couldn’t be that hard to beat him.

 

* * *

 

            One week later, and it’s the middle of the seventh debate. The size of your class has doubled since last week. Ms. Damara let Dave set up his stupid bets table on the condition that she gets at least five dollars.

           "I don't understand what kind of fairytale world you've been living in where you think that just because Bernie Sanders has all these big ideas, he's just going to get elected and automatically be able to work with our congress in its current state." you say.

           "Clinton's not radical enough. We need someone who'll continue to fight the republicans at every turn just like they've been doing to us for the past eight years. Don't lecture me about visions when your plan is to meet everyone in the middle until we all drop dead."

            Ms. Damara mutters about you two being 'preachy pieces of shit'.

            “Look. We could argue about tax plans and smear campagines or all the weird stuff Sanders said about Fidel Castro." you say while he glares "But by the looks of Republican candidates, what we really should be focused on is the electability of the candidate.” 

            “I agree with that. But why is Clinton automatically more electable than Sanders?”

            Your teacher groans. “Oh, now they’re talking about electability. Fucking strategist assholes.”

            “Sanders is a socialist, that automatically marks him as an extremist to ninety-five percent of modern America.” you argue.

            He narrows his eyes. “So what? The two leading Republicans are extremists. Maybe we need a little extreme.”

            “Hippy.”

            “Centralist.”

            "Deluded visionary."

            "Coward."

            The class ‘ooooohs’. So does Ms. Damara.

            You narrow your eyes right back. “I bet you would have voted for Ralph Nader back in ’04 and split the vote.”

            “Who the fuck is Ralph Gayder?” someone whispers.

            Captor’s eyes glow angrily behind his tinted glasses “Oh, you ass, that was uncalled for!”

            “Your face is uncalled for!”

            More ‘oooh’s followed by a few ‘what are they talking about’ murmurs.

            Mr. Damara throws her book again. “Boys! Stop! Both of your faces are uncalled for! Class dismissed early. Don’t hit your butt on the way out.”

            You hit your butt on the way out.

 

* * *

 

            You arrive at your apartment. Your gorgeous view of downtown, luxury shower, and entire collection of Ghost Hunters are ignored as you go straight for your book _The Ethics of_ _The Death Penalty and 101 Other Debates_.

            You’re a couple of pages into the chapter on vaccinations when your phone starts buzzing.

TG: yo so i got your cut

TG: fifteen big bucks

TG: thats enough to buy one entire copy of sonic o6

TG: well three fourths of one

CG: I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY I HAVE TO BE HERE FOR THIS.

TG: because eridan and i have never officially met and i dont want to make him feel awkward

(just entered)CA: thanks for accountin for my terrible social skills

CG: HEY ERIDAN. I’M APPARENTLY HERE TO HOLD YOUR HAND ENCASE YOU THINK DAVE IS TOO SCARY.

TG: hey im just being nice

TG: you guys cant crush my spirit you dont know my life

CA: davve dont wworry about the money

CA: i dont need it

CG: OH WOW, WHO KNEW?

CA: hey this is me being nice

TG: didnt you get the memo no one can be nice anymore without being mocked

TG: what has society come to

TG: dystopian future bullshit

TG: everything is communism now and not the cool socialism hybrid kind

CG: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

TG: wasnt that what sollux and eridan were talking about in class today

CG: I MEAN, KIND OF.

CA: wwhos sollux

CG: MY ROOMMATE. MY GOOD FRIEND OF EIGHT SWEEPS. THE MAN WHO YOU’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH TRYING TO CRUSH THE ENTIRE QUARTER.

CG: WHICH REMINDS ME OR SOMETHING.

CG: WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU PUT DOWN A FUCKING BOOK AND HAD FUN?

CA: oh dont make this a fuckin intervvention

CA: i wwas at feferis birthday party

TG: bromeo that was almost three months ago

(just left)TG: oh fuck college staff looking at me weirdly i gotta go before I get arrested for letting people gamble

CG: LOOK, ERIDAN.

CG: YOU ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH OF A MAJORLY ANNOYING STUBORN STREAK, AND SO DOES MY ROOMMATE.

CG: I’M WORRIED THAT YOU MIGHT START FORGETTING TO TAKE BASIC CARE OF YOURSELF.

CA: wwhy are you abnormally calm about this

CG: BECAUSE I’M PATCHING FEFERI THROUGH.

(just entered)CC: So you know )(ow about once a mont)( I ask you out to random fun day with me and every time you go?

CA: ok ill go

CC: Anyway, I’ve decided that I’m taking you out next Tuesday no matter w)(at you say.

CG: HE JUST SAID HE WOULD GO.

CA: fef ivve nevver missed one of your random fun nights evver

CC: I know. I just wanted to sound cool. 38(

CA: oh no fef dont make me go have fun

CC: To bad! 38)

(just left)CG: YOU GUYS ARE SO FUCKING STUPID.

CA: anywway wwhat are wwe doing

CC: I can’t actually tell you.

CA: wwhy is this a secret

CC: Well, I decided I should )(ave you play some kind of stupid game so you could remember what a normal, friendly contest felt like. But if I tell you w)(at it is, you’re just going to go learn the entire sport inside and out.

CA: wwhy wwould i do that

CC: Because I kind of invited Sollux.

CA: oh joy happy glubbin yea

CA: wwhat are wwe playing

CA: i just really need to knoww

CC: I’m not going to tell you. That’s the fun of it!

CA: is it mini golf

CC: Yea. 38(

 

* * *

 

            It’s next Tuesday and you are way more excited than you should be. Ninety percent of your overall excitement is purely related to beating Sollux’s skinny, grey ass at a children’s game. The other ten percent is excited because Feferi always hugs you when you see her and god knows you need more physical contact.

            You’ve spent the last forty minutes trying to crank up the fashion in some attempt to make Sollux’s clothes feel bad about themselves.

            You hear a knock at your door and rush to open it. It’s Feferi and she hugs you.

            “Thank you for coming!” she says, smacking the book out of your hands.

            You rush to pick up _Mini-Golf Strategies_. “Fine, I won’t bring it. I’ve never played it before, I was just trying to get a better feel for the sport.” You hesitate to call it a sport.

            She leads you down the stairs. “Look, I know it’s hard for you. But can you at least try to not be a dick? For me?”

            “I’ll try if he tries.” She tugs on your scarf, irritated.

            “Ok, fine. I’ll try. For you.” you say, actually kind of meaning it. You don’t want her to be upset.

            She makes you sit in the back of her car for some reason while she goes to pick up Aradia and stupid dual-tinted glasses asshole.

            Feferi drives in front of the college dorm complex and you realize you had forgotten that not everyone lived in lavish apartments. You see Aradia right away, a spark of red against the mind-numbing grey of the parking lot. She’s half dragging a seemingly reluctant Sollux and you are happy that he is enjoying this so little.

            God, you are an asshole.

            Aradia hurries over to the passenger seat and you realize why Feferi made you sit in the back. Sollux sits down next to you with a huff. You were right about his clothes. He’s wearing a Star Trek TNG shirt that looks older than you and some black jeans that look like they might have some bullet holes in the cuffs.

            “Is this really necessary?” he says.

            “Well, my idea was to handcuff you too together and drop you on a raft in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, but Feferi thought this would be more appropriate.”

            You roll your eyes. You really want to make some kind of snarky comment towards him and you know he wants to make one towards you. But you promised Feferi and he probably did to. So you two spend the car ride listening to Feferi talk about her trip to Puerto Rico to visit her parents.

            Feferi pulls into an even shitter looking parking lot than the college one. Her sleek, purple sports car looks grossly out of place. She looks back and sighs at the wall of stuffed animals that you and Sollux had built between you during the car ride. Aradia just laughs. 

            You try not to step in any spilled food on your way to the entrance and briefly wonder if people turn into animals when they play mini-golf or if that was just poor people in general.

            Ok, that was a bad thought. You knew that people couldn’t help being poor, probably. You couldn’t help your annoyance, though.

            You’ve played golf enough times to at least kind of know what to expect. Or at least, you thought you did until Feferi hands you a purple stick thing that might look like a golf iron if you were color blind and standing really far away.

            “Why do we only have one kind of club?” you ask Aradia.

            “What?” she asks, confused. You remember reading that mini-golf had more to do with geometry than judging distance.

            You are currently looking at a giant rotating fan and are about to give up entirely when you see Sollux give you the same look he did right before he absolutely pulverized you at laser-tag. You change your mind, you are going to win.

            “Feferi’s paying me five bucks to not be a dick to you.” he says.

            “Hey, I’m doing it for free.” You want to add more but you stop yourself.

            “Well, I have a proposal.”

            “What?”

            “Well, I really don’t want to make Feferi upset. But I think that whoever wins should get bragging rights, starting tomorrow.”

            “Fair.” You reach out to shake his slender, somewhat bony hand. You both grip a little tighter than you need to.

            "What the fuck are you guys doing?” says Aradia. You release and see that he drew a little blood with his stupid claws.

            Oh, it was so on.

 

* * *

 

            Over the next hour, you and Sollux take mini-golf so seriously that it’s concerning. Sollux keeps mumbling geometric equations to himself when Feferi’s not looking. His strategy is purely math based, while yours is adapted from watching other people and making minor adjustments. In the end, you tie and Aradia beats everyone by sheer dumb luck. She gets a free ice-cream cone for beating the house score.

            “So I can’t figure out the best part of this ice-cream cone. The fact that it was free or the fact that I really, really don’t deserve it.” she says, licking a stray drop of chocolate from her hand.

            “I mean, you did bounce a shot of the back of Eridan’s head, that was pretty impressive.” says Sollux. Feferi sighs as you bring a hand to the bruise.

            “For the record, I was in no way trying to do that.” She winces. “Sorry about that, again.”

            “Don’t worry about it. I’m fine.” you say, glancing at Sollux. You know that he really wants to say ‘because he has a thick skull’.

            You hate to say it, but you actually kind of had fun. You like spending time with Feferi, and Aradia seems friendly enough. And even though you didn’t win, it was still comforting knowing that Sollux was bad at something.

            Feferi lets you sit in the front this time.

            “You’ve earned it.” she says.

            “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

            “Oh, I won’t. There was this, and this time you helped me complete my Cross Word puzzle in the seventh grade.” She smiles.

            “Hey, there is probably least one more selfless thing I’ve done in my life at some point.”  

            “Oh, you know I’m kidding.” she says. You kind of know she’s kidding. You make a mental note to pay for the next random fun day with Feferi. There, that will put a small dent in the humongous debt you owe her that’s accumulated over the years.

            Sollux tells a story about about the time he and Aradia got kicked out of Target. You try to play off your laugh as a cough. Feferi gives you a look as she drops off Sollux and Aradia, but she doesn’t say anything. She then walks up to your apartment, informing you of the seven reasons she hates Sea World. You make a mental note to try and make your final essay for your debate class illustrate the horrors of Sea World. You think she would like that and you’ve recently learned that helping other people occasionally makes you happy for some unknown reason. Feferi drops you off, hugging you again. You almost expect her to go on one of her ‘be nice to yourself’ speeches.

            You examine yourself in one of the many mirrors you have lying around your house. You have mixed feelings about your apperence. You had a nice face and body and your choice of a purple duster jacket with black jeans is astounding in your opinion, but you had learned long ago the people weren’t going to find you attractive unless they actually liked you. Or at least, you stopped scowling.

            You would take pride in the fact that you were more conventually attractive than Sollux, but you knew better. Being conventionally attractive might get a You a one night stand in a Wendy's parking lot but it wasn't going to get you a second date.

            You try smiling but it looks hollow and slightly disturbing, just like a golf ball.

            Well, actually golf balls aren’t really that disturbing and you’re not actually sure if they’re hollow. It’s a terrible analogy. You try again.

            Blah blah blah hollow and slightly disturbing, like the ethereal mist drifting from a freshly-extinguished funeral pyre. You feel like a poetic genius and only slightly pretentious.

           

* * *

 

            It’s the next day, and you’re already late for your home economics class. Granted, it would probably be easier to get there if you didn’t have to drive all the way from downtown every day. However, you had seen the inside of a dorm room once and almost threw up a little.

            You make an attempt to fix some stray strands of hair as you hurry down a hallway in your class building. There’s an audible collision as you turn the corner, confusing you until you see Mr. One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish on the floor and realized that you just bulldozed right over him. You weren’t the biggest person in the world. But you doubt he could tip the scale to a hundred forty pounds, despite being an inch taller than you.

            “Watch where you’re going, asshole.” he says, rubbing the back of his head “Wow, you are compact.”

            You thank years of swimming and tennis for that “complement”.

            “You know, maybe if you weighed more than a hundred pounds you wouldn’t fall over whenever the wind blows too hard.” you snap back.

            “Oh, Fuck you.” He gets to his feet and lifts up his Aperture Science shirt “I have at least five abs here.”

            “Sol, the only reason you have abs is because you have the body of a thirteen year-old boy with not enough fat content.”

            “At least I don’t have the personality of someone on Reality TV.”

            “At least I don’t sound like Daffy Duck.” You cross your arms.

            He throws his hands up in animated surprise. “Oh wow, mock the lisp. No one has ever done that before. You’re just so original.”

            Half of you is angry and the other half wants to laugh. The compromise is a smirk that you try to play of a scoff. God, he was obnoxious.

            He keeps talking. “No really, you deserve some kind of award for that. You should wow the crowd with some stand up. What will you do next, try to get me to sing _Wells Fargo Wagon_?”

            “Are you done?”

            “No, I haven’t given you your Noble Prize yet.”

            “Oh my god, Sol. Go to class.” You hurry off in the other direction just in time for your scowl to become a smile of annoyance and hilarity. Not that you thought his melodramatic sarcasm was funny; this was a pity smile.

 

* * *

 

            It’s finally the day you’ve spent the entire week waiting for. You and Sollux are already sitting on opposite sides of the room, facing each other. You’re going over as much of the information you’ve retained from reading various books and articles. Ms. Damara has been using an exceedingly intellectual tactic to choose the next debate topic. She pins up a list and Terezi throws paper clips at it until she hits the paper.

            “Oh god, vaccinations. This is gonna be a wild ride. I wish they would let me get drunk in this school.” The class laughs. You here her mutter “I’m not fucking kidding you fuckos” under her breath.

            “What specifically about vaccinations?” asks Terezi.

            Ms. Damara thinks to herself for a few seconds. “Let’s say, uh, should parents be able keep their children from getting vaccinated because of belief or worry about the claim that vaccinations may have been linked to autism?”

            You scoff. “The scientific evidence implying that vaccinations are linked to autism is vastly overshadowed by the evidence that they have no correlation whatsoever.”

            Ms. Damara sighs. “And Captor, your opposing argument?” She pulls out a book.

            Sollux opens his mouth his mouth and immediately closes it. He looks confused.

            “Well, actually I agree with that.” he says. You hear some puzzled murmurs around you.

            Ms. Damara looks up from her book. “Huh. Well, then, go sit next to Ampora.”

            “What? Why?” you say.

            “Because you’re taking the same side. Did you think that you two were just supposed to sit across from each other and glare every Friday because those were the seating arrangements?”

            You did kind of think that. Sollux awkwardly gets up and sits next to you.

            “Ok, who’s going to take the opposing side?” says Ms. Damara.

            Terezi raises her hand. “Can I do it even if I don’t agree with it?”

            “Yes, part of debating is being about to make solid arguments for sides you don’t even believe in.”

            Terezi drags Karkat over to the opposing side. Dave scraps his betting table.

            “Pyrope and Vantas, what’s your opening argument?” asks Ms. Damara. Dave takes off his sweatshirt to reveal a ‘Go Karkat’ tee-shirt. Karkat slams his head into the table.

            Terezi speaks instead. “How about, even if there’s more scientific evidence linked to a lack of correlation, there’s still a small amount of evidence implying that it does and so people should be allowed to choose for their wriggles or children?”

            Sollux gives his debate look. “Well, because you’re making the decision for your own wriggler instead of just for yourself. Not to mention the other people who are at risk if your child catches something. States that have higher vaccination rates, like-“ He stops talking and makes an uncomfortable noise.

            You’re confused. Why isn’t he talking? Did he forget what state had the highest vaccination rate? You know that it’s Mississippi, a pretty easy state to remember. It’s not like him being a troll means he took a different geography class than you.

            Oh.

            He can’t say Mississippi.

            You jump in as quickly as you can. “States like Mississippi have lost far less children and adults by way of preventable diseases than places like Colorado that have a much lower ration of vaccinations given. As a species, sorry, two species, the most strategic action to take is the one that lets the most people live happy and long lives.”

            Sollux glances at you in surprise for a second before talking. “In addition to that, even if vaccination did occasionally cause autism, autism is in no way as tragic as people, you know, dying.”

            Terezi opens her mouth again. “I can’t argue with that.”

            “You’re supposed to.” says Ms. Damara.

            Terezi thinks for a few seconds. “Couldn’t a vaccine weaken my wriggler’s immune system?”

            “No.” you and Sollux say at the same time.

            Over the next ten minutes, you and Sollux give what is probably the strongest argument you’ve ever had in a college debate class. At one point Dave makes an opposing argument out of sheer curiosity, as Ms. Damara has forgotten that he is not actually in her class. You work with Sollux to find holes in both the science and ethics of his statement.

            You’re working together. Not only that, but you just helped him avoid mild embarrassment. You make a metal note to mock him about his lisp later.

            Ms. Damara actual lets you out at the correct time and not five minutes early like she usually does on Fridays. You watch Sollux awkwardly collect his belongs next to you.

            “Thanks, I guess.” he says, refusing to look at you.

            Say something nice. Turn your life around and stop being a dick all the time. Maybe at least admit that you respect him.

             “You owe me.” you say, feeling both satisfied and like a huge douchebag.

            He rolls his eyes and gives you an elegant storm off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All my friends who have read this have told me that this is the most "condensed opinion" that I've ever written. Well, that's probably a bad thing.
> 
> Also the reason why I made Eridan a human was because I wanted to create some kind of class and species dynamic don't sue me
> 
> I reread this for the first time in 6 months and I'm shocked that no one went off on me for getting political. Also, crindging at myself for going political.


	2. The One With All The Aggressive-Pacifism

            It’s next Monday. The fact that you and Sollux could work well together when you agreed on something had definitely not crossed your mind once. When Feferi had found out what happened, she sent you about two hundred messages informing you that she was proud.

            She would not be proud of you right now, however, as you are about sixty seconds away from punching this printer in its non-existent face. That is, if it doesn’t blow up beforehand.

            You push a few buttons that seem like they should be the buttons you need to push in this situation, but no. A message saying ‘data erase authorized’ pops up and you are very confused.

            “Need help with something?” You jump a little. Sollux is standing behind you. At least he’s the only person in line behind you.

            “Oh shush. I got this.” you say, very vividly not getting it.

            “You know, if you break that printer, you have to pay for it.”

            “Not a problem for all of us, Sol. Some of us have money that lets us afford things that aren’t bought at garage sales.” Maybe that was a little mean.

            “I don’t care too much for money.” he sings “Money can’t buy me love.”

            Ouch. You probably deserved that.

            “Oh, I did not deserve that.” you say. How did he know about your mind-numbing loneliness? Feferi probably blabbed it to him in some attempt to get him to like you more.

            “Well, even if you pay for it you’re still going to be known as ‘idiot human guy who broke only good printer on campus’ for a few months. Do you want my help or not?”

            You weigh the pros and cons in your head. “Fine. I would appreciate your help.”

            He smirks and steps forward, hitting a few buttons. Your papers print out in a matter of seconds.

            “I don’t owe you anymore. It feels good to be a debtless man again.” Oh no, it’s another contest. You are not going to lose. He’s about to walk away when you grab his arm.

            “What?” he says, glaring at you.

            You pull out a needle and thread of your bag. “There’s a tear in your jacket and I’m fixing it.”

            “No you aren’t.”

            “It’s raining outside.”

            He sighs. “Fine.”

            You examine the fabric of his jacket. It’s a brown leather bombers jacket that you think is actually from the 50’s. You make him sit as you sew the inner layer closed and run a piece of fabric tape up the inside of the leather layer.

            “Why do you have all that stuff?” he asks.9

            “Apparently so your shitty jacket can live another decade. You owe me again.”

            “Oh, you shithead.” And he’s off.

            You think you’ve won the ‘aggressive nice contest’ until the next day when he grudgingly helps you with your calculus homework. You find out he’s great with numbers, but god-awful at learning other languages that aren’t JavaScript or binary. You’re starting to understand how his brain works.

            So, on Wednesday you “accidentally” drop a book you had purchased on his table in Debate class. It was originally titled _How to Learn a Language When You Think in Numbers_ but you had crossed that out and scrawled ‘how to learn a language when your dumbass robot brain can’t understand anything that isn’t stated 100 percent algorithmically also I hate you’ instead.

            On Thursday he helps you untangle your scarf from a thorn bush on your way to Economics. He only makes fun of you the entire time.

            Now it’s Friday and you’re on your way to your debate class. You are curious as to how it’s going to go, if you and Sollux and everyone else are going to pretend that last week didn’t happen. Some lady hands you a flyer. You examine it carefully. It’s a human power, anti-interspecies relationship pamphlet. You may not have always been on the right side of history when it came to equal rights but most of your friends are trolls. So you walk all the way back down the hall and symbolically flush it down a toilet. Then you are back on your merry way to class.

             “Yeah lady, I already know I’m going to hell. Can I go to class now?” You hear from about fifty feet in front of you. You know that voice. You look up to see Sollux stuck talking to same extremist lady from before. You briefly weigh the pros and cons. Pro, Sollux is having a bad time. Cons, you’re not the one making Sollux have a hard time and his species probably deserves at least a little better.

            It is your turn to do something nice, after all. You once again thank swimming and tennis for what you’re about to do. You fast walk towards them, plowing past the women and probably knocking her over. You reach your arms out.

            “Oh hey Sol we gotta go bye” you say, scooping him up and placing him over your shoulder. Your fast strut continues until you reach the end of the hall. You didn’t actually mean to pick him up but he’s lighter than you anticipated. God, his legs are long. You are not envious at all. You place him carefully on the ground.

            He adjusts his glasses and for the first time you notice that his eyes are different colors. You’re not really sure why he wears dual colored glasses that are the exact same colors as his actual eyes. You’ve also never seen a heterochromiac troll before.

            His voice breaks you from your thoughts. “Well, I guess that’s one way to help me. Probably could have dealt with that on my own.”

            “You shouldn’t have to.” you say, forgetting to be a dick for once.

            He gives you a surprised look as you walk into class. For the first Friday since the class began, the tables are arranged like they are on other days of the week and not in a debate formation.

            Ms. Damara hands you a piece of paper describing the argumentative essay due for your final.

            “You’re working in pairs for this assignment.” she says “Part of debating is being able to strategize tactics with someone else. I think. I might have just made that up.”

            You and Sollux both look at Karkat and Terezi at the same time. They pair up with each other out of spite. You look everywhere but Sollux. You know no one else in this class.

             “Oh, Captor and Ampora, I already paired you two up.”

            You both make noises of protest.

            “Oh shut up, you work well together. Besides, _Days of Our Lives_ in on hiatus and I need my drama somewhere.” she says. The class laughs good-naturedly.

            She puts a hand on your shoulder and whispers to you. “No it’s not. It’s because I hate you. I’m not kidding. Fuck you, Eridan Ampora.” She smiles and gives you a ‘just try to tell anyone I said that, no one will believe you’ look. You weren’t planning on telling anyone. But if you did, everyone would believe you.

            You spend the rest of class in the corner with Sollux, brainstorming ideas. People keep looking over at you two, probably to see if you’ll break out into a fight.

            “How about we write about the danger Sea World is to the circle of life?” you say, remembering your mental promise to Feferi.

            “I mean, I had already planned out an eight page paper in my head about how so many of our problems could be solved by making good education more affordable and accessible, but I guess a few whales dying every year is cool too.”

            “Do this and you don’t owe me anymore.” you say, already brainstorming ideas of new aggressively-passive things you could do for him.

            He sighs. “Fine. Let’s just write out a few pages each and combine them on Monday or Tuesday so we can get this out of the way. I’ll give you my phone number.”

            “Wait, let me guess it.” You close your eyes and press your fingers against you temple.

            “What, no. The probability of you guessing my phone number is one in 4782969.”

            “Is it (206) 149-1625?”

            He raises an eyebrow. “Who told you that?”

            Karkat had mentioned once that his roommate had somehow managed to change his own phone number to annoy him and Aradia. He didn’t tell you what it was, but you figured that the numbers one through five squared would be a good guess.

            “Lucky guess. Guess you’re just predictable.”

            “I am spontaneous and charming. Shut your talk-blaster.”

            You smirk. “I’ll message you this weekend.”

 

* * *

 

            You decide to message Sollux on Saturday night. It wasn’t because Feferi left after lunch and neither Karkat nor Kanaya were answering their phones and you were lonely. It also most definitely was not because you missed talking to him.

            You feed your fish and pull out your Rose Gold Edition IPhone 6S12 Whatever.

CA: hello

CA: i am wwell

CA: im sure youre fine

CA: ok great done with all the fuckin expected social things to say lets get on with it

TA: you are the mo2t pretentiiou2 per2on ive ever talked two.

TA: oh look at me iim fii2hboy bonaparte and im two good for normal iinteractiion2.

CA: i wwas simply tryin to insult you

TA: oh yea ii know

TA: but 2tiill ii bet you 2aw fiight club one tiime and deciided to 2iit iin the corner of 2tarbucks every day wiith black eyeliiner and a niilii2tiic attiitude.

CA: oh fuck you i wwas nevver an anarchist

TA: and in your liittle corner of 2adne22 you wrote poetry and thought about how much better you were than everyone el2e.

CA: youre still talkin

TA: diid you ever write 2omethiing liike,

TA: “the wworld shiift2 and blend2 around me a2 ii 2teal a forbiidden kii22 from the 2moke of my ciigarette and paiint my face wwiith melancholy”

CA: oh shit sol can make guesses

TA: ok fiine then you try iit.

CA: i bet if i looked through your browser history all id find would be shitty 4chan memes you made about ted cruz

CA: maybe some ecchi

CA: definitely some brian regan videos

CA: howw about françois marie arouet vvoltaires wwiki

TA: dont knock my man fran.

TA: but yea that was pretty good.

TA: not that iim iin anyway iimpre22ed.

CA: oh of course not when are you evver impressed wwith anyone but yourself

TA: ii remember fiindiing the 2peed of the 2ega gene2ii2 pretty impre22ive.

CA: you struck me as more nintendo

TA: ii am. dont tell 2akuraii or miiyamoto ii 2aiid that.

CA: wwe are gettin off track

CA: i cant believve im lettin myself get off track with a convversation this fuckin stupid

TA: ii thought we made 2ome 2mart ob2ervatiion2 about how terriible fiight club ii2.

CA: wwhy do you keep talkin about fight club

TA: ii hate fiight club.

TA: 2o much.

TA: 2o ii naturally a22umed that iit wa2 all you thought about.

CA: i saw it once and thought it wwas ok

TA: want me two hold you two that?

CA: wwhat do you mean

CA: wwhere did you go

TA: patchiing kk through.

(just entered)CG: SOLLUX, JUST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU NEED TO KNOW.

TA: what does eriidan thiink of fiight club?

(just left)CG: I TRY TO FORGET THE ‘09 ERIDAN. IT WAS HORRIBLE. LET’S NEVER DISCUSS THIS AGAIN.

TA: ii thiink that2 all ii need two know.

CA: ok fine I wwent a little ovverboard

CA: like you wwerent doin anything less embarrassing in middle school

CA: ivve heard stories about the light up sneakers

TA: there2 no proof of tho2e ever exii2tiing.

CA: wwhat wwhy

CA: did you destroy all the evidence sol

TA: you know what? youre riight. we are gettiing off track.

CA: oh so now you wwant to talk about wwhat wwere actually supposed to be talkin about

TA: ju2t tell me when you want to meet up.

CA: howw about monday

CA: wwhen are you classes ovver

TA: gettiing iit out of the way early. ii liike iit.

TA: iim done at one. dave know2 where you liive and ii2 giiviing me a riide. ii can get there around two.

CA: i didnt say you got to go to my house

TA: fiine let2 ju2t do iit iin the miiddle of the publiic library.

TA: you know, wiith all the weiird 2mell2 and 2creamiing wriigler2.

CA: (took a screen shot)

CA: no i didnt

TA: ii have 2oftware runniing telliing me when people take 2creen2hot2 of conver2atiion2 wiith me.

TA: what diid you take?

CA: fine hackerman

CA: you sayin wwe should do it in the library

CA: that sentence could be vvery easily misinterpreted and i was going to use it as blackmail if i evver needed to

TA: that2 liiterally the 2adde2t thiing iive ever heard.

TA: why do ii feel liike you havent gotten laiid iin ever?

CA: not true

CA: i sucked a lot of dick in tenth grade

CA: a lot

TA: diid any of tho2e people know you?

CA: sure

TA: oh yea ok.

TA: the piizza guy doe2nt count.

CA: one time i slept wwith vvris

CA: i knew her for three years

TA: diid 2he try two 2teal your kiidney afterward2?

CA: ill see you at two on monday

            You realize you probably could have made these plans with him after class on Monday. You decide not to think about it. You make your way over to your kitchen. A small colony of fruit flies has decided to use your fruit bowl as a playground, no matter how many times you washed it. Fuck the environment. You grab a pear and your egotistical attitude.


	3. The One With Chess And Probably Some Other Stuff

            You write your segment of the paper over Sunday. You probably should have talked to him about who was supposed to be writing what, but by writing an almost-entire paper you had the excuse to create something better than he makes.

            In class you had just gone over the proper font sizes format for your final. Ms. Damara had let you out early on account of her hangover. This is not what your high school teachers had said college was going to be like.

            It’s currently 2:01 pm. Sollux is one minute late and you are contemplating texting him to complain about it when your phone goes off.

TA: whiich fuckiing floor do you liive on?

TA: why are there 2o many floor2?

TA: iim 2cared two touch any of the button2 iin your elevator.

TA: why ii2 there no floor thiirteen? ii know human2 are 2cared of that number but thii2 ii2 fuckiing 2tupiid.

CA: sol i didnt build the fuckin elevator

TA: of course not. you would never work iin a blue collar po2iitiion.

CA: not true

CA: ivve spent way too much of my time cleanin up litter around our ocean that dipshits like you throw

CA: i livve on the fifteenth floor

TA: hey dont look at me.

TA: al2o no you liive on the fourteenth floor.

CA: i think i knoww wwhere i livve

TA: ju2t becau2e the elevator 2ay2 there2 no thiirteenth floor doe2nt mean that there ii2nt one.

TA: the fourteenth floor ii2 really the thiirteenth floor and the fiifteenth floor ii2 really the fourteenth floor.

CA: youre so fuckin annoyin

TA: hey, ii thought youd appreciiate that factoiid.

TA: now let me iin.

            You sigh dramatically as you get up from your chair to open the door. He’s wearing evil goatee Spock shirt and you have no idea where his supply of terrible nerdy crap comes from.

            “Come in. Take your shoes off.” you say, scowling at his mismatched-vans that probably have some two years of mud caked on the bottom. He takes them off. His socks are riddled with holes. You make a mental note to give him new socks for your next niceness act.

            “You know, I was half expecting a mansion. I thought you would be richer. Not that this place isn’t over-the-top, but still.”

            You scoff. “Please. Having a mansion is such a waste. I aint’ really one for becoming addicted to spending money. That’s a terrible strategy in the pursuit of happiness.”

            “I didn’t think I would hear that from you.” he says, walking over to your window and gazing over downtown to the water.

            “It’s scientifically proven that money can only buy happiness to a certain point. So I took care of all of my needs and some of my material wants.” You watch him as he studies your deep purple and blue interior.

            “That’s surprisingly intelligent.” he says “But unless your next words are ‘and I invested the rest of my money into various company shares, giving me a steady overabundance of income that I use for helping the poor, uneducated, and the environment’ I remain unimpressed.”

            “It’s undecided. Now let’s read each other’s dumb papers so we can decide how to combine them.”

            He sits down in one of the two lounge chairs around your small glass center table. He looks confused.

            “Why does my ass not hurt right now?” he says, seemingly genuinely perplexed.

            “Wealth.”

            “Alright. I want this chair. I have two dollars. There’s a deal to be made here somewhere.”

            “That chair costs more than your dorm room. Shut up and read my Sea World paper.” You toss him your copy and he hand you his. You sit down in the chair across from him.

            It’s handwritten. Apparently he can’t or won’t pay the forty cents it is to use a school printer. You do not feel bad at all that he can’t afford it. You do not. If he wants to make money, he can go make money. Nothing is stopping him from being poor.

            You know that there are a million things stopping him from not being poor. You decide not to think about it, because that’s easier.

            His handwriting is awful. At least he doesn’t write in his typing quirk like Feferi does. He writes in an intelligent tone similar to how he speaks, but slightly more respectful. Slightly. It’s mildly passive-aggressive. He’s surprisingly dry, finding humor in places you would never have seen it. You have to bite the inside of your mouth a few times to keep from laughing.

            You finish reading. He’s been done for a few minutes.

            You speak first. “We actually touched on different subjects. We can use all of this.”

            “Sure. But can I go over your segment and make it more ethically appealing?

            “Only if you let me go over your part and make it more linguistic” His vocabulary is not particularly impressive. It’s not terrible, but you can do better.

            “Sure.” He gets up and places your paper in his bag.

            “So what now?”

            He checks his phone. “Dave said he’d pick me up in an hour. That was ten minutes ago. So I’ve got fifty minutes to burn. I’m gonna go steal half and half from Starbucks.” He’s about it walk towards your front door when he sees something.

            “What is it?” you ask.

            “Is that a half-finished Sudoku puzzle?” Sollux says, pointing towards the end table on your couch.

            “Yes. Why?” If he walks over and solves it in ten seconds he’s getting kicked out.

            He walks over and grabs it, bringing it back to your center table.

            “Give me five minutes and a pencil and I’ll make you feel bad about yourself.” he says, grinning like an idiot.

            “Not gonna happen.”

            “Good thing I brought my own.” He pulls a pencil out of his bag and starts working at a speed that you worry might cause the paper to ignite.

            You have to admit that it’s fascinating to watch him work. You let him go for about three minutes before questioning him.

            “Wait, how did you get a three there?”

            He pushes his glasses up. “Ok, look at the boxes in this row. See how only two and five can go in this box, and only two and five can go in this box?”

            “Yes, I’m not a dumbass.”

            “Well, only two, five, and three can go in this box in the same row.”

            “You know, if I had to ask it probably means I needed a little more explanation than that.” you say, annoyed and perplexed.

            “Fair point. Well, if only two and five can go in this box, then no other numbers can be placed there. Same with this box.”

             “A shocking observation.” you say, still not being a dumbass.

            “So that means two and five can’t go anywhere else.”

            “Ok, I get that. I’m not a-“

            “Dumbass.” he finishes for you “So that means that we can eliminate the possibility of a two or a five in any other box in this row. There was a possibility of a two and five in this box, I eliminated then, all that’s left is three. It’s simple.”

            You had never thought of that.

            “Congrats on your condescending deductive bullshit.”  You suddenly get an idea. You pull out your chess set, a gift from your mother. You’re finally going to do something that you’re better at than him.

            “Oh fuck, ED, we really gonna do this?” He sits back down in his chair.

            You try not to smile as you set up the pieces. Sollux is analytical, logical, and has an algorithm based style of learning. But that’s not enough. You are going to cream him.

            Thirty minutes later and he’s better than you expected. You’re still better. He doesn’t like to take risks unless he has to, and makes every move like it’s the only one in the game. He can’t think ahead of you.

            “Get out of my head.” he finally says.

            “Sorry, what?” you say, distracted by being in his head.

            “Get out of my think-pan. It’s weird. I can feel you planning five moves ahead of me.”

            “That’s how chess works.”

            “You’re better at it than me.”

            A thousand fireworks go off in your head, just like the times you beat him in debates before you two started tying.

            “Sol, I never thought I’d hear you say those words.”

            He rests his chin above his wrist. “You fucking strategist. I’m stuck over here with my stupid robot brain.”

            “Do you play chess a lot?”

            “No.”

            You look down a bit. “You’re not bad.”

            “Being a logician, I naturally have more talent for it than the average person. But I can’t think like you do. Some of the best strategies end up being the illogical ones.”

            “Most people think of logic and strategy as the same thing.” you say, surprised that he made that observation.

            “They have plenty of similarities and people who are either one tend to have at least a bit of talent for the other. Two concepts that seem pretty much the same but split at the end.”

            “Like your tongue?”

            He sticks his tongue out. “You noticed?”

            You nod. “Is it naturally forked?”

            “Yeah. Now, not that I care, tell me about how you got good at this.”

            He told you that you were good at something.

            “When I was younger I wanted to join the military.” you say.

            “Why didn’t you? If you’re a chicken hawk I’m judging you harder.”

            “Of course not, asshole. I just had some idea that I could just show up and that I would just magically become a strategist and sit in a tent pushing pieces around a map. And then I would grab a sword and ride around on a horse and ensure our freedom from the oppressors.”

            “I’m gonna keep calling you Fishboy Bonaparte. Go on.” he says. You push your auto-biography of Napoleon Bonaparte under your chair with your foot.

            “Well, I got older. Learned that the military wasn’t like that. Everything is about oil and brainwashing and not being queer. I lost interest. But I still wanted to be a strategist. So I practiced my ass off in the hopes that aliens would attack so I could spend the rest of my days cooped up in some shitty boat, planning.” You don’t tell people this story very often.

            “An alien invasion.” he says. You’re suddenly painfully aware of his horns.

            “Sorry. I am very aware that your species did not invade.”

            “It’s fine. I just get,” he pauses “accused of it a lot.”

            You’re about to question that when you notice a spider crawling up your rook as you start to move it forward. You’re about to kill it when a hand stops you.

            “What?” you say, properly confused.

            “Don’t just kill that.”

            “Why not? People kill spiders all the time, Sol. It’s part of life.”

            “More like part of death. I would be pretty upset if huge beings, indefinitely more complex than us just reached down and killed you for no reason. I mean, upset if they killed me for no reason.” He looks to your right.

            “I’m killing it for a reason.”

            “Why? Because it disgusts you? Because you’re so much better than it? Because you’re afraid of spiders?”

            You’re not afraid of it. “Get off your soap box, Sol. If you care about bugs so much, think about this. This spider is going to kill hundreds of flies in its lifetime.”

            He scoffs. “Flies are useless. That spider will do way more for the ecosystem in the long run.”

            “God, you are fucking preachy.” you say as he sets his open palms down on the chess board. Blue and red beams pull the spider into his hands.

            “You’re a psychonic?”

            “Low level. My eyes didn’t give it away? My species biologically exchanged most of their mental abilities for equal lifespans decades ago. For some reason, minor psyconics sometimes stick around. I’m legally only supposed to use it in an emergency, but I’m considering dramatic affect an emergency.”

            “You know Sol, I could totally argue that your just bias towards flies.”

             “Yes, you totally could.” He moves his palms towards you. “Look. The bottom line here is does this spider deserve to die just because you’re afraid of it?”

            You look at the spider, aware of how small it is. “I’m not afraid of it.”

            You feel the coolness of his hands as he places is spider in yours. It crawls across your fingers and you try not to flinch. You could kill it so easily right now.

            You realize that your hands are shaking. You find the whole thing disgusting. You really wish it would stop moving so much. Why does it have so many legs?

            Maybe you really are just scared. You hand the spider back to Sollux.

            “Sollux Captor, friend of bugs.” you say as he takes the spider to your window. You hear him mutter something to the spider that sounds like ‘I’m gonna call you fuckface’.

            “So are we gonna finish this game or not?” you say as he returns.

            He glances at the board. “The only winning move is not to play.”

            “Take your shitty references out of my house, Joshua.”

            He grins at that. For the first time, you notice how asymmetrical his smile is and how some of his sharp teeth are crooked. It’s profoundly charming.

            Oh fuck.

            Metal Crusher starts playing. “Well, that’s my alarm.” he says, returning to his feet.

            He steps over your harpoon. “Let’s finish this shit show tomorrow. I’ll be over at about the same time.”

            He leaves you feeling intellectually satisfied and with a strange feeling in your stomach. You should put your harpoon away.

           

* * *

 

            You and Sollux end up trading papers back in class. You read over his penciled in suggestions and decide that most of them are worth doing. Now you’re in your room typing it out, totally not put off by the fact that he’s one minute late again.

            A knock jolts you to your feet. You look through the peep hole and see that he’s jammed his horns directly over the pinpoint, just to spite you. You open the door as quickly as possible so he has to grab your arm to keep from stumbling forwards.

            “I sent you my part of the paper over text. Can you download it and send it to your computer?” he says, setting his bag down.

            “How do I do that?”

            “Just send it to yourself on Facebook.”

            “I don’t have a Facebook.”

            Over the next two hours, Sollux uninstalls Windows 10 from your computer, installs Windows XP, judges you for having Windows 10, watches you send his document to yourself using Tumblr of all things, judges you for running an aesthetic porn blog, debates with you over who the best Founding Father was, renames your pet fish to 'John', 'Paul', 'George', 'Ringo', and 'Atticus Finch', has you explain what gender is, starts a fight about which one of you has a better ass, tells you why he personally thinks multiverse theory is bullshit, and finally finishes merging the two documents into one rough draft. For some reason, all of this had ended in a _Super Smash Brothers Melee_ No Items Final Destination Twenty Stock Battle.

            You are getting your ass handed to you. His Falco still has ten stocks while your Roy is down to three. You have been spiked so many times you are seriously considering strangling him with a controller. It would be less agitating if he didn’t keep saying “get wrecked hoe” every time he did it.

            “I can still win this.” you say, now down to two stocks.

            He goes for the spike again. You counter successfully but then fall to your death. At least you took him with you.

            “I can still win this!” you say, a bit louder this time. You cannot still win this.

            “Ok, ED. Want me to hold you to that?”

            “God no.”

            At this point you are very aware that you are not going to win and very aware that his thigh is pressed against yours. His Falco shines you into oblivion.

            “Will you stop wave-dashing every time you kill me?”

            “Get wrecked hoe.” he says, ceasing wave-dashing and beginning L-canceling.

            “I will fucking sue you, asshole.”

            “You can take away my two dollars but you can’t take away my pride.”

            A knock on the door interrupts you both. You pause the game and get the door.

            It’s Dave. Oh god, he’s probably here to kill you for hitting on his future boyfriend when you were in seventh grade. Or the time you hit on his sister. You are going to die. You welcome death.

            “Hey bro. Are you ok?” he asks. You realize your eyes are about the size of dinner plates right now.

            “Yes. Fine. What’s up?” you say, like all the cool kids. Cool kids say ‘what’s up’.

            “Well, Sollux was supposed to come down about an hour and a half ago.”

            Sollux gets up. “Oh fuck, sorry Dave.”

            “I don’t fucking care man, I got to fuck around downtown for an hour. But I told Karkat I was gonna make dinner so we need to go.”

            “Bye asshole.” he says “I’ll see you same time tomorrow.”

            Why are you so happy about that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm fucking pissed about logic right now cause I've always been in the 99th percentile for logic, just like my father before me and his mother before him and I just got a 'D' in my Symbolic Logic class I never get 'D's in number classes ('D's are for geography) I'm retaking that class and getting and 'A' or I'm gonna punch a cow.


	4. The One With The Primaries

            On Wednesday, you finally admit to yourself that you enjoy his company. As payback for him creaming you in _Smash_ , you force him to sit through the _Island of Myst_. He calls it boring, overly convoluted, pointlessly cryptic, outdated hipster crap, and a bigger let down than Maximilien Robespierre. He obviously adores it and accepts your offer when you lend it to him. He makes you buy _Undertale_ before he leaves sends you annoying texts until you play it.

            By Thursday you start to think of him as your friend, kind of. You're not sure if he thinks of you that way. He is pleased with you when he finds that you managed to beat the pacifist run, but makes you reload your last save so you can instead not kill “that stupid fucking flower is literally telling me he’s going to go out and kill my friends if I let him live, I’m not losing my friends for this fuckface, Sol” so you can get the true pacifist run. You spend the last twenty minutes determined not to tear up out of happiness and finally lose it when you see that Undyne is happy in the credits.

            Now it’s Friday, after class and in your apartment. You and Sollux had one last writing session in the morning, you told him to go play _OFF_ as punishment for making you sit through _Undertale_ , and then you handed in your paper. It didn’t matter how well you did, you already had over one hundred percent in that class for participating in every debate.

            You had told him so much about you over the last week. He makes fun of you but he always listens to what you have to say. He doesn't talk much about his own life, but rather his scientific and philosophical ideas. He often gives hard rants on some of the more 'creative' thought experiments, or respectfully adds upon complex concepts, such as hard determinism with his own spin. He makes you think. You can’t remember the last time you were as impressed by anyone.

            You would never tell him that. You’re not sure you would even be able to. You’re not required to work together anymore, and the quarter is almost over.

            You’re running out of excuses to see him.

            Not that you cared, of course. Why would you? Except for the fact that he was the smartest person you had ever met, interesting, and a worthy rival did not mean you cared. You didn’t care about his crooked smile or his mix-and-match eyes or how much he had taught you about yourself. And you definitely, in no way, cared about his butt.

            You dunk your head in the sink.

            You pull your head out, feeling much better. You file Sollux away with the ten thousand other things you’d prefer not to think about right now.

            You are suddenly face to face with the same spider that you thought Sollux had deposited out your window. It must have managed to crawl back in. You flinch so hard you end up on your butt. Not because you are scared. You’re just startled.

            No, you’re fucking scared. It’s not a big deal; most people are terrified of spiders. It’s not like you also being scared means anything.

            You are suddenly flooded with every mean or cowardly decision you’ve ever made in your life. There are a lot, especially around the time of your early teens. Memories that you’ve repressed out of guilt are overwhelming you.

            Get a grip on yourself. Talk to someone. You don’t talk to your friends enough. You message Kanaya first.

CA: i havve a question

TG: Alright

CA: do you havve regrets

CA: overwwhelming regrets

TG: You Mean Mistakes Ive Made That I Would Prefer Not To Ponder On

CA: thats pretty on point

TG: Yes I Do

CA: really

TG: Everyone Does

TG: Are You Feeling Particularly Conflicted

CA: i guess i could say that

TG: I Figured You Were Going To Ask Me This At Some Point

TG: Im Glad You Did

TG: I See It As A Sign Of Maturity

CA: oh my god kan wwhy do you have to make evverything wweird and maternal

TG: That Question May Never Find Its Answer

TG: The Point Is That We All Have Regrets

TG: Admittedly Some More Than Others

TG: But Avoiding Processing Our Feelings Or Letting Ourselves Be Consumed By Guilt Just Make It More Difficult For Us To Change The Traits That Led Us To Do The Things We Regret In The First Place 

CA: i like that

CA: at least i cant find a wway to complain about it

TG: Im Flattered

CA: and youre sure im not the only one wwho feels like this

TG: Im Sure

CA: are you sure youre sure

TG: If It Means That Much To You Ask Your Friends

TG: Before You Leave I Would Like To Ask A Favor Of You

CA: alright kan

TG: I Understand You Are Spending A Lot Of Time With Sollux

CA: wwhat about it

TG: I Know He Does Not Have A Lot Of Money And I Fear Hes Not Eating Enough

CA: are you about to ask me to be his mom because thats not going to happen

TG: Just Please Make Sure That Hes Not Starving

            Maybe you should ask your other friends. You message Feferi and Terezi. They both have regrets and are happy to give you advice. Terezi even apologizes to you for being mildly manipulative to you about five years ago, something that you hadn’t even thought about. Feferi is thrilled when she learns that you chose to do your paper on Sea World.

            You feel better. Just one person left to text.

CA: i havve a question

CG: IS IT ABOUT SOLLUX?

CA: no wwhy

CG: NEVER MIND. JUST ASK YOUR QUESTION SO I CAN GET BACK TO WATCHING DAVE TRY TO MAKE A FUCKING PANCAKE.

CA: do you havve regrets

CA: stupid things you did wwhen you wwere younger

GC: ERIDAN, I REGRET LITERALLY EVERYTHING I’VE DONE UP TO ABOUT TWO SECONDS AGO.

CG: AND I’M GOING TO START REGRETTING THAT IN ANOTHER TWO SECONDS.

CG: YEP TWO SECONDS HAVE PAST AND I REGRET WHATEVER I DID.

CA: wwell that wwas all the vvalidation i needed for one day

CG: NO. NOW I GET TO ASK YOU SOMETHING.

CA: wwhat

CG: WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY ROOMMATE?

CA: wwe wwrote a paper

CG: NO, TEREZI AND I WROTE A PAPER. A DAMN GOOD ONE ABOUT CORRUPTION IN THE DEATH PENALTY. YOU GUYS DICKED AROUND FOR AN EXTRA ELEVEN HOURS.

CA: no wwe didn’t

CG: HE’S MY ROOMMATE. I KNOW WHEN HE GETS HOME.

CA: fine wwe dicked around for elevven hours

CA: non consecutivvely

CG: I AM SIMPLY CURIOUS TO KNOW WHAT YOUR INTENTIONS ARE.

CG: BECAUSE I’M SURE AT THIS POINT YOU’RE PAINFULLY AWARE OF THE MASSIVE RIVALRY RED AND BLACK COMBO RESPECT CRUSH HE’S HAD ON YOU SINCE FEFERI’S LASER-TAG PARTY.

CG: BLACK AND RED COMBO CRUSH? I’M JUST GOING TO CALL IT “DARK RED”. THAT’S BETTER.

CA: wwhat

CG: WHAT?

CA: wwhat

CG: *FUCK*

CA: did he say that

CG: OH SHIT YOU CARE. TELL ME, WHAT IS IT YOU FELL FOR? THE HOSTILITY? THE SNARK? THE CYCLOTHYMIA AND MINOR ADHD? THE SOCIAL ANXIETY?

CG: AND NO HE DIDN’T SAY THAT. IT WAS JUST A GUESS. I THOUGHT IT WAS PRETTY FUCKING OBVIOUS.

CA: so he didnt actually say that

CG: WHY? WERE YOU WISHING HE DID?

CA: havve you evver heard of jumpin to conclusions

CG: HAVE YOU EVER HEARD ME BE WRONG ABOUT ROMANCE EVER? SERIOUSLY, THE ONLY TIME I'VE SEEN HIM FALL HARDER WAS FOR GORDO FROM LIZZY MAGUIRE BACK IN SIXTH GRADE. 

CG: THERE IS NO JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS WHEN IT COMES TO OTHER PEOPLE’S ROMANTIC LIVES THAT ARE NONE OF MY BUSINESS. AND YOU NEVER ANSWERED MY QUESTION.

CA: ivve only knowwn him for twwo wweeks

CG: YOU’VE KNOWN HIM FOR OVER TWO MONTHS.

CA: wwell ivve only been actually talkin to him outside a class for two wweeks

CG: WILL YOU ANSWER MY QUESTION?

CA: oh fuck my stovve is on fire

CG: NO IT’S NOT!

CA: YES IT IS

CA: ill send you a picture to provve it

CG: WE ARE ADULTS.

CA:

CG: WHY DO YOU DO THIS?

 

* * *

 

            It’s the next morning. You pull a blanket over your head. You are never going to talk to Sollux again and you except that. Your phone starts buzzing and you pull it under the blanket with you.

TA: where the fuck are you?

CA: huh

TA: ii repeat, where the fuck are you?

CA: wwhere the fuck are you and wwhy do i need to be there

TA: iim at the democratiic caucu2.

TA: now get over here 2o you can fuckiing vote.

CA: wwhy do you wwant me to vvote

CA: wwouldnt wwe be vvotin for different candidates

TA: ii dont giive a 2hiit.

TA: iim actually undeciided and ii dont really care who the nomiine ii2.

TA: all ii really care about ii2 that ii dont have to deal wiith rich toupee a22hole or the zodiiac kiiller for four two eight year2

CA: i cant come to the democratic caucus

TA: iif youre at the republiican caucus iim goiing two kiill you.

TA: ii mean you can be a repuliican iif you want two but could you ju2t not for thii2 year?

CA: but soool i thought you said i could vvote for wwhoevver i wwanted to

TA: wiill you ju2t tell me why you cant come?

CA: im not an american citizen

CA: im not allowwed in

TA: oh.

CA:  wwhats happenin givve me updates

TA: were goiing over the rule2. kk, dave, tz, aa, and twenty people ii dont know are at my table.

TA: oh fuck my parent2 are at the table next two me.

TA: we just elected terezii iin charge becau2e 2he2 the loude2t.

TA: we elected kk a2 2ecretary becau2e he ha2 the be2t handwriitiing.

TA: oh wow people are electiing me a2 tally counter becau2e apparently iim the only one who know2 how to do 2iimple ariithmetiic.

TA: hang on ii got to count everyone2 iiniitiial vote.

CA: this sounds overly confusin

TA: now we’re giiviing three miinute 2peeche2 on the caniidate of our choice.

TA: everyone iis beiing pretty re2pectful.

CA: you should do one

TA: iim undeciided  

TA: ii just 2aiid some 2hiit about ru22iian iinterventiion and dii2tru2tiing the media. pretty basiic.

TA: al2o now ii have to explain what 2exi2m ii2 to tz, kk, and aa for liike the twelve tiime.

CA: wwell im not sayin i respect you for standin up for wwhat you believed in but i am sayin that if you didnt i was plannin on judgin you harshly

TA: what a true friend.

CA: wwhats happening noww

TA: were electiing deliigate2

CA: wwhats that

TA: we tally up the end vote2 and for every four vote2 for 2omeone they get a reper2entiitiive.

CA: again that sounds overly complicated

TA: you want to make a fuckiing new 2y2tem fuckwiit?

TA: 2orry. iim ten2e.

CA: youre ALWWAYS tense sol

TA: yea but iim extra ten2e riight now.

TA: iive had hamiilton 2tuck iin my head for way two long.

TA: do you know how hard iit ii2 to jack off whiile hamiilton ii2 2tuck in your head?

TA: my speciies wa2nt even here around the ameriican revolutiion.

TA: ii havent orgam2med iin fiive day2.

CA: thanks for that

CA: i just really wwanted to knoww the things keepin you from touchin yourself

TA: for a hundred buck2 ill throw iin a picture of my feet.

CA: wwho are the delegates

TA: terezii got nominated for a hiillary delegate and dave for a berniie delegate.

TA: we nominated 2ome other people ii dont know.

TA: everyone here but u2 ii2 miiddle aged.

CA: i thought ter and davve were be2tfriiend2.

TA: doe2nt mean they agree on everything.

TA: they ju2t do when iit come2 two iimportant 2tuff.

TA: hang on there2 an announcement.

TA: iim back

CA: wwhat wwas the announcement

TA: turn2 out thii2 caucus co2t ten thou2and dollar2 two put on 2o theyre a2kiing u2 for donatiion2.

TA: goodbye two dollar2.

CA: you havve to pay to vvote

TA: ii mean ii dont have two but 2omeone ha2 two do iit.

TA: caucuses arent an officiial 2tate thiing.

TA: ed?

TA: where diid you go?

TA: well ii have to go for a whiile anyway, there2 another announcement.

CA: ill be here

TA: 2uck my nook you a22hole.

TA: i fuckiing hate you.

CA: awwww, noww wwhys that sol

TA: how diid you even pull that off?

CA: pull wwhat off

TA: donate ten thou2and dollar2 for the caucu2. ii know that wa2 you.

CA: then wwhy are you mad

TA: you diidnt have to do iit under the name

TA: uh

CA: wwhat name

TA: iim not gonna 2ay iit

CA: but sooool you owwe me

CA: do you really wwant to be in my dept

CA: say it

TA: 2oll2ux craplord.

TA: dave has been laughing for two 2oliid miinute2.

TA: kk keep2 lookiing at me liike he knoww2 2omethiing 

TA: how diid you even get that money?

CA: that wwasnt evven a double digit percent of my money

TA: agaiin, how?

CA: i mean im technically royalty but wwhatevver

CA: sol

CA: wwhere did you go

CA: hello

TA: IIT’2 KARKAT.

TA: OH YAY HII2 2TUPIID 2OFTWARE II2 MAKIING ME TYPE LIIKE A NOOK-CHAFER.

TA: BECAU2E HE CAN’T JU2T DO IIT BY HAND LIIKE THE RE2T OF U2.

CA: wwhere did he go

TA: HE MENTIIONED 2OMETHIING ABOUT SAYIING ‘GET WRECKED HOE’ TWO ROYALTY AND WENT TO GO DUNK HII2 HEAD IIN THE 2IINK.

TA: YOU HAVE TWO 2TOP BLURTING THAT OUT TWO 2OUND COOL.

            Sollux is probably going over everything he did and said to you in the last few months in his head right now and worrying that you’re going to murder him. You find it mildly amusing. Wow, you are an asshole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my actual experience at the caucus. The message of this chapter is go fucking vote or don't it's a free country i guess


	5. The One With Dinner And Debauchery

            It’s Monday and you are officially on Spring break. Time to go get hammered on a beach with strangers. Or at least get out of your apartment.

            Sollux hadn’t messaged you yesterday. You suppose you hadn’t messaged him either, but you couldn’t think of an excuse to. You should think of something. Maybe visit Karkat in the hopes that he would be there. No, you didn’t want to do that to Karkat and you actually enjoyed his company. Maybe a pizza place was hiring and you could convince him to order a pizza and then when he came to the door act really surprised. Maybe you could dress as a fire fighter and pretend his house was on fire. Maybe you should just go get hammered and show up at his door pretending you don’t remember where you live.

            Eridan, you’re smarter than this. You need to think of something better, maybe, he, oh fuck yes. You pull out your phone to tell him.

CA: you left your smash copy at my house

TA: oh. 2orry. iil come get iit iin a few hour2.

CA: i can just come there

CA: its a two minute drivve and i knoww the busses take a wwhile

CA: wwhat2 your room number

TA: two hundred fiifty 2iix.

TA: iim not at home riight now iim at work. iim gettiing off iin a half hour.

CA: wwhere do you work

TA: the crape vendor at paciifiic place.

CA: givve me twenty minutes

TA: you dont have to piick me up you bulgeliicker.

TA: oh crape iive got two go.

            You bring the fashion up a little, even putting on purple and blue bow tie instead of your usual scarf.  You’re going for less of a “fashionable hipster look” and more of a “jackets required” look, in case you want to go out to eat later. You even lace up some above-ankle boots with a one inch heel so you can final be the same height as him. You put on the tightest and most genital-unfriendly slacks you have, before immediately changing into something less ridiculous and slightly looser. You momentarily wish you could have genitalia like trolls did where it was internal as long as the situation wasn’t sexual. Although then you wouldn’t be able to pee standing up, which is something helpful when you’re trying to not miss the second half of the theater. You stop thinking about the mechanics of your own dick and pull on a blue and purple vest over a white dress shirt. You spend about five minutes looking at yourself in the mirror and genuinely wonder if you would fuck a clone of yourself.

            Sollux doesn’t work that far away from where you live. You get there early. You would have gotten there even earlier, but luckily you had wasted a solid five minutes thinking about literally fucking yourself. You were a strange cocktail of ego and ‘filled to the brim with guilt’.

            He’s working the counter at the crape place. Instead of his glasses, he’s wearing a white hat and it looks like he stabbed holes in it with a kitchen knife so his horns could go through. It was pathetically adorable.

            You walk up to him, pleased by the ominous clicking of your heels. You know he’s not off work yet, but you kind of want a crape.

            “Are you here to order a crape or do you just want to kill me in a royal fashion?” he says, eyebrows raised.

            You mockingly search your pockets. “Oh darn, I guess I left my harpoon at home.”

            “What would you like?”

            “Give me something with strawberries and ice-cream”

            He gets to work. You watch him pour batter over a rounded grill and smooth it out. It’s satisfying to watch, but he keeps glancing at you with a worried look on his face.

            “So you’re not gonna kill me if I mess this up, right?” he says. He’s joked a lot about you murdering him and you wonder if he’s low-key worried that you actually could use your power to do that.

            “Being technically part of the Finish royal family doesn’t actually give me political power. Besides Sol, I was hoping you knew me well enough to know I have no interest in killing people for reasons that petty.” You are slightly hurt, but mostly amused.

            He looks down. “I know. It’s just, there’s always that chance, even if I know it’s extremely unlikely.” He arranges some strawberries on the finished circle.

            You feel better. “So you were actually scared?”

            “Scared of you? No. Totally not. Nada. Stop smiling. Just going over everything I had said to you was startling. Let’s never discuss this again.” He puts a scoop of ice-cream in the top of your finished crape and hands it to you.

            You slide him a ten. “Keep the change.”

            He gives you a crooked smile. “Have a crape-tastic day.”

            You groan and flip him off.

            “I’ll be off in ten minutes.” he says as you walk away to find a table.

            You find one about forty feet away from him. After taking a bite of your crape and almost coming in your pants, you record a mental note to come here more often. You make some lazy doodles in your sketch book as you look around for something to draw.

            He’s absent-mindedly perched over the counter, one arm lying down on the counter and the other supporting his chin, a claw slipped over the side of his mouth. He takes off his hat. Maybe you should-

            No. Eridan, don’t do it.

            You really want to.

           You’re acting like some middle-schooler with a crush, when in reality you only felt purely platonic things for Sollux. So what if you had a wet dream two nights ago where you bent him over the table in debate class and smacked his ass with a ruler and also Joseph Stalin was there. Purely platonic.

            Maybe not draw all of him. Starting at the bottom of your paper, you draw his horns and add a few spikes of back hair. When you balance the pad of paper vertically on the edge of your table, it looks like he’s trying to hide under the table but his horns are giving him away. You giggle to yourself.

            “What’s so funny?” he asks, suddenly standing at the end of the small table you’re seated at.

            “Nothing!” you say, quickly closing your sketchpad with surprise and embarrassment.

            “Look, ED, I don’t care if you draw porn. Can I just have my game back?”

            “Sure.” You hand him the bag you put the small disk in. “But I’m driving you home.”

            He raises and eyebrow. “Why?”

            “It’s my turn. I need to go down to our school anyway to check out a book.”

            “No way. That’s not how this contest works. Everything you do has to be out of the kindness of your vascular cavity. You owe me another thing.”

            “I just donated ten thousand dollars so you wouldn’t have to give up your two bucks.” you say, starting to navigate your way down the escalators.

            “Oh please. I said your stupid fake name and that should be worth ten good deeds.”

            “Fair. Just say it again and you won’t owe me for this ride.”

            He mumbles something.

            “Louder, Sol. You agreed to this and I know you’re one for fairness.”

            He scowls. “Sollsux Craplord. Stop giggling or I’m gonna shove a crape up your excrement-chute.”

            “I’ve found I’m more of a top but I can make an exception.” He rolls his eyes at that and makes a mocking imitation of the grin on your face.     

            You take an elevator down to the parking lot. You and Sollux get into a ‘who gets to push the button’ fight that ends with various buttons being pushed and various pointless floors being visited. You and Sollux then take turns making cracks at the different painting on every floor that you see when the elevator doors open.

            “Oh wow, a blue square. How meaningful and abstract. You’re breaking some new grounds there, Picasso.” he says.

            You grin. “I know it may look like it's just a blue square, but that's just because you're looking at it with your eyes. Look at it with your soul, Sol. The square is a metaphor for the redundancy of daily life that we find ourselves trapped in, and the surrounding blank canvas is the unknown, forever just out of our reach.”

            He snorts out a laugh. “Damn ED. I guess it takes a pretentious one to know a pretentious one.”

            “Wow, that hurt because it’s true.” Your elevator final reaches the floor you were trying to get to. There is no art and you are mildly disappointed.

            You lead him to your car, a gleaming purple gem in a sea of grey-blue, blue-grey, and grey-black. You unlock your car with the press of a button. Your car hums to life with the press of another, shinier button.

            “I’m going to guess that I can’t put my feet up on the dashboard.” says Sollux, eyeing his surroundings.

            “This car costs more than your college tuition. Well, no it doesn’t. Don’t put your feet on the dash.”

            “Fine. I’m just going to go through everything in your glove compartment.” he says. You here click as he opens the small compartment before you can stop him. God, he is annoying.

            “God, you are annoying.”

             He reaches a hand in. “Condoms, classy. Please tell me that you haven’t had sex with anyone where I’m sitting.”

            “I could tell you that, but it wouldn’t be true. I don’t think you understand how many times this car has gotten me laid.”

            He reaches in again and pulls out your old writing notebook. You thought you had burned that thing a while ago. You would smack it away from his hand but you are unfortunately stuck with the task of driving.

            “What’s this?”

            “Boring stuff, you wouldn’t be interested.” you say, keeping a straight face and hoping he might buy it.

            “Oh ok, so you don’t mind if I open it.”

            “Knock yourself out.” You are going to call his bluff.

            You hear pages ruffle. Fuck.

            “Wow, ED. A table of contents.”

            “Oh god, don’t read those.” you say, hating yourself for laughing.

            “I’ll just read the titles. _The Crystallization of Loneliness_ , _Ice Running Through My Veins_. Oh wow, this one is called _The_ _Spiders Forbidden Kiss._

            Oh god, that one. You grip the wheel a little tighter and pray that he doesn’t read it.

            “I’m sorry, but I have to read this.” Fuck.

            You hear more pages turning. “I feel the ghost of her kiss over the tightness of my navel, sending sparks down to m-“

            “Oh my god, Sollux, shut up.” you cut in, an embarrassed grin and a light blush dusting itself on your face. You were far from proud of your pre-eleventh grade writing.

            “A flurry of movement, my hand sweeping through her hair as her mouth teases up my inner thi-“ You pull over before he can read anymore.

            “What are you doing?” he says as you pull your seat belt off. You climb into his lap and wretch the book out of his hands. His expression is somewhere between annoyed and amused as he fights to grab the book back. You lay your free arm over both of his and he stops thrashing to symbolize defeat.

            Oh god. He’s warm and his face is inches away from your face. Abort mission. Stop making it weird. It is perfectly reasonable for you to start staring at an alien after you jumped in their lap to keep them from reading about your first blow-job.

            You climb back into your seat. “No more poetry for you.” You start the car as he giggles to himself like an idiot.

            “Thanks for reminding me that you hate my writing.”

            He stops giggling. “I like your writing.”

            “What?”

            “I mean, your writing sucks a giant bulge and I hate you. Shut up.”

            Is this friendship? Is this flirting? Is this fighting? Why does life exist? You are confused. You pull into the parking lot below his dorm room and have an existential crisis.

            He gets out before you and walks over to the stone steps leading up. As soon as you set your foot on the first one he starts walking.

            Maybe a little too fast. You up the speed of your strut a little.

            Oh, it’s on. You break out into a run. From the way he’s built, he can probably beat you in a long-distance race but you are a pure-blooded sprinter. You sprint up the first two flights, assuming that he lives on the third floor, as the first floor is a giant hipster restaurant. You look back to rub your pride in his face, and he gives you a look of annoyance as he opens door 256.

            You step in and see his apartment for the first time. It’s smaller than your apartment, and less organized. There’s a couch and a desk and a TV with a few consuls in front of it, which is relatively normal. But there are also two piles of discarded paper and boxes, which you faintly remember is the sleeping place of a troll that can’t afford a repercoon. Karkat being asleep in one of them (complete with some fluffy black cats snoozing on both his head and butt) tipped you off. Various predictable science fiction posters are almost completely covering the walls, as well as more posters of famous sixties and seventies musicians than you were expecting. A few of the posters are for terrible rom-coms, which you assume are Karkat’s. His living room is connected to a kitchen.

            “Can you hang on a minute? I need to shower or I’m going to die.” he says, walking towards the smallest bathroom you’ve ever seen.

            “Sure." You inspect his book on ‘Billy Joel and two hundred other musicians that our parents listened to who aren’t relevant anymore’. You wonder if he’s forgotten why you are here. You gave him his game back at work. Why did you come with him to his apartment? Why did neither of you question this? What if everyone on Earth is a robot except for you?

            You shake your dumb worst-case-scenario thoughts out of your head by snooping through his music collection. A lot of Jazz, a lot of Blues, and more Rock n’ Roll than you’ve seen in your life. There’s a few Katy Perry CDs on the other side or the rack with a note taped to them reading “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY STUFF, SOLLUX!”

            Remembering what Kanaya had asked of you, you wander into his kitchen. He has a fridge, but more interestingly, a glass incased bee hive that seems to be hooked up to his desk top. These don’t look to you like human bees, as their bodies are a bright purple. Still, it clicks that this might be part of the reason Sollux didn’t want you to kill that spider. You probably could have watched them work for hours if you hadn’t already promised Kanaya to help her snoop on his eating habits. You open the pantry.

            Oh god, it’s almost empty. There’s a single small jar of peanut butter, some hard taco shells, and a two containers of pills. The smaller of the two jars contains some pain killer for headaches, while the larger is a jar of genetic material suppressor pills. The barcode has been cut off, which you assume means they were shoplifted on the account of them either being too expensive or Sollux being too embarrassed to buy something that literally no one was going to judge him for. You should stop snooping through two of your closest friend’s masturbation and sex aids, so you try his fridge.

            This is sad. There are a few half-eaten crapes, an almost-empty jelly jar, a few bell peppers, and a small brown paper bag. You examine it to find the words “MIND HONEY, DO NOT EAT!”

            You open it. It’s purple honey. You don’t know what you expected.

            Sollux returns from the world’s shortest shower in an _Earthbound_ tee-shirt and some cargo shorts. He’s drying his hair off with a thin towel.

            “Why is there glowing honey in your fridge?” you say, genuinely confused.

            “Did you eat it?” he says in mock worry.

            “No.” You suddenly have an idea. “And I’m buying you dinner.”

            “I’m kind of scared of learning about your tastes in restaurants.”

            “Whatever. It’s my turn. You don’t get to choose the nice things I do for you.”

            “No way. I have more than enough to eat here.”

            “I mean, ok. If you’re sure you have enough to eat, then fine. I’ll just go.” you say, walking slowly towards the door. You turn around and put your hand on the doorknob, calling his bluff.

            “Ok, fine. Just please tell me you’re not taking me to some place where I have to dress fancy.”

            You were very much planning on taking him to a place where he had to dress fancy. If you stepped foot into an Applebee’s you would probably die.

            “Oh course not. No go change into something fancy so we can do exactly that.” you say.

            “No way.”

            “Well, if you can’t handle it, then.”

            He scowls. “I have a total of one suit and it is both for my Jazz Combo and in the wash.”

            Your bickering is interrupted by a knock at the door. You open it to see Dave.

            “Thanks. Karkat invited me over, but he’s asleep.” Dave says, just as Karkat starts to wake up.

            “Dave, why the fuck are you dressed like that?” Karkat slurs, cats jumping off his various body parts. Dave is wearing a black suit with a red rose in the lapel. He rolls in and you realize he’s wearing heelys.

            “I just came from a funeral, bro. I’m motherfucking classy right now.” he says, not being classy.

            “Wait Dave, switch me clothes.” says Sollux.

            “Sure.” says Dave, pulling off his jacket and shirt before even asking why.

            Karkat gets up and sees your confused expression. “It’s fine, they do this a lot.” he explains, turning you around and calling you a pervert.

            “Don’t worry, you’re not missing much. Between the two of them, they weigh about fifty pounds.”

            You are forced to look away. Not that you care, of course. The two cats come over to meet you. The smaller, more dignified-looking cat comes over to you right away, but leaves after deciding you aren’t good enough. You try to pet the fatter, dumber looking one, but it runs face-first into a wall when you make a sudden movement towards it. The first cat has now made a new decision that you’re good enough after all and flops over on the ground in front of you. You reach down, but the second cat is apparently jealous and runs into your hand. You get one pet in before they both run into the attic in fear. You sigh.

            “Ok, Eridan, you can turn around now.” says Karkat. You do exactly this and are faced with Dave wearing cargo shorts and an _Earthbound_ tee-shirt, something very un-Dave like. He’s still wearing the heelys.

            You take Sollux’s glasses of and find he looks surprisingly nice.

            Surprisingly very nice. Not that he doesn’t always look somewhat nice, but you suppose a little variety is always a good thing. Sollux has about the same body type as Dave, so it fits pretty relatively well. You watch as Sollux hands the rose to Dave and realize that you’re staring again.

            “I’m gonna go audition for _Mad Men_.” says Sollux.

            “Why did you need my suit?”

            “I’m taking him out to eat before he dies of starvation.” you say, aware that Karkat is giving you a look. You pull Sollux out the door before he can pester you with questions.

 

* * *

 

             You’ve been two steps outside the restaurant for about five minutes. Sollux is having fancy restaurant anxiety and will not admit it.

            “I’m just saying, these flowers are pretty. We should look at them for a while. Look, this one is purple. You like purple, right? Oh, this concrete is really smooth.” he says, crouching over in a flower bed and palming the ground.

            “Sollux, if you’re afraid of embarrassing yourself, just remember that I come here a lot, so anything embarrassing you do will negatively affect me, too.”

            He gets up. “Alright, let’s go.” he says, a hand on your arm as he pulls you in.

            You two are then seated at the windowed table you had permanently reserved. You can see the light from the sunset bouncing off the ocean. You now remember why you had this place presently reserved. From the window behind his head, the yellows, oranges, and reds perfectly match up with his horns, and that makes you happy.

            Horns. You suddenly realize that Sollux is the only troll in this entire restaurant. He’s getting a few odd glances.  

            Sollux is examining his menu. “I have no idea what any of this is. Please help.”

            “If it says filet mignon, get that. I feel like you would like that.”

            “Flaming what?” he says, confused. You point to it on the menu.

            He puts his menu down. “Ok, thanks. I’ll be back.” He grabs his wine glass and heads towards the bathroom. You are too confused to stop him.

            He returns two minutes later, wineglass full of clear liquid that you hope isn’t alcohol.

            “Sollux, what is that?” you ask.

            He shrugs, taking a seat. “Water.”

            “Why did you,” you trail off and examine his glass “Did you just fill up your glass with tap water?”

            “Yeah, why?”

            “Oh my fucking god, Sol.” you say, almost face planting into the table.

            “What, did you want me to fill up yours, too?”

            You’ve known Sollux for enough time to know that he’s not always as educated as you when it comes to certain subjects, but also that he’s far from innocent. But you wonder how many times he’s been to an actual restaurant that wasn’t Ihop. You’re sure Feferi has taken him out a few times. Wait, Feferi’s favorite restaurant to take friends out to is Ihop.

            “Sol, they fill it up for you.” You should have taken him to Olive Garden first to warm him up. Yea, like you would ever be caught dead at Olive Garden.

            “I mean, I assumed they might, but I figured water might cost money here.”

            “Shut up and drink that so our waiter doesn’t think we’re weird when they come to take our order.”

            You watch as he pours half of it into your glass. “What are you doing?”

            “We’ll finish it fifty percent faster this way.”

            “We’ll finish it twice as fast. That’s one hundred percent faster.”

            “I’m counting the time I figured you would take trying to prove me wrong, and the time you spent hesitating before drinking tap-water like a peasant. Cheers to drinking unfiltered water like peasants.”

            He lifts up his glass and you do the same, hesitating for a few moments first to prepare yourself to drink unfiltered tap water like a peasant.

            Your glasses clink and you drink unfiltered tap water like a peasant.

            “Do you feel liberated, yet? Any desire to revolt against the one percent?” he says, left fang slipping out as he smiles.

            You roll your eyes as a waiter you don’t recognize comes over to take your order and re-fill your glasses. You are usually served by a nice, older women who sometimes sits with you on her break when you (always) come in by yourself. This guy’s red hair and haughty demeanor reminds you of General Hux.

            You order a lobster tail and Sollux goes with your suggestion.

            “And how would you like that cooked?”

            “Not at all. As rare as possible. Just put it in the microwave for ten seconds or something to warm it up.”

            The waiter shoots him a disproving glace. “Are you sure you can pay for that?”

            “I’m paying.” you say.

            “Good.” he says. Forget about Sollux embarrassing you, this guy is embarrassing you.

            “Sorry about that.” you say. If someone is going to be a dick to Sollux it should be you.

            “It’s fine. I don’t know that guys life, it could be all he knows. Maybe he never had anyone in his life who treated him with compassion and open-mindedness.”

            “That’s surprisingly kind.”

            He grins again. “Yea, well it also makes me feel better about myself, like, ‘at least I’m not that guy’.”

            “Everything is a dual, snarky façade with you, ain’t it?”

            “Pretty much. Did you read TZ and KK’s paper on the death penalty yet?”

            You shake your head. “No. Should I?”

            “It’s good. I mean, I spend a lot of time thinking about stuff like that. It’s one of the reasons why TZ and I became friends. Although, she tends to think more about what harm the guilty deserve and I tend to try to think more about what liberation the innocent deserve.”

            “I always figured you would be against the death penalty.”

            He lets his hand prop up his chin in habit. “I am. Our current system is racist and classist and specist and wastes time and money that we can’t afford.”

            “What if it hypothetically didn’t do that?” you ask, curious.

            “Well, maybe. I think that serial killers or child abusers who are very obviously going to re-offense should be stopped by just about any means. I mean, unless we better our community service program.” He pauses. "But now that I think about it, I'm more talking about vigilante justice than things that should be regulated by the government. There's a long list of 'what-if's."

            “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.” you say in a low, Lenard Nemoy voice.

            He laughs. “Sure, if you want to call it that, Fishboy.”

            “So are you an “ends justify the means’ cool logic kind of person?”

            “I probably would have said that a few years ago. But my dad once told me that when people ask you if the ends justify the means, they’re really asking you if the ends always justify the means. My answer is, no, they don’t always. It depends on what ends and what means.”

            “I like that.”

            “What do you think?”

            You tug on your hair a bit. “I’m still trying to figure out if I should trust my own judgment or not.”

            “Being cautious isn’t a bad thing. I would encourage you to think about anything and everything. That’s how I learned what I truly believed in. It makes it easier to trust yourself.”

             You smile a bit. “Is there anything you don’t over-analyze?”

            “No way. I over-analyze everything. Including my emotions, which can sometimes make them hard to feel them. It’s harder to do that with anger, though.” His eyes suddenly get a little wider and he looks a bit uncomfortable.

            “What’s wrong?”

            “I don’t usually talk about that aspect of myself.” he says.

            “Well, all I do is talk about every aspect of myself, so I guess that makes us even.” He flashes his stupid crooked smile at this and your heart does something weird in your chest and you are feeling feelings. You don’t even have any cold water to dunk your head in. Oh god, what should you do? You think of what thirteen year-old Eridan and do the opposite of that. Thirteen year old Eridan would have probably stripped naked and laid down on the table when you were playing chess a week ago. What’s the opposite of that? Never talking to him ever. No, don’t do that either. How about a pick up line? He likes to call you ‘Fishboy Bonaparte’. How about “Hey, is your name Waterloo, because you make me fall!”. He likes history.

            Say it.

            Oh god, don’t say that.

            Say it.

            _Shut the fuck up._

Sollux is snapping in front of your face.

            “Huh, what?” you say, like the suave bastard you are.

            “I asked you to explain how you ended up in America and your eyes got really big.”

            “Oh. My mother was part of the Finnish royal family. My father was a business man who invested in Monsan-“ you pause “a company. He lucked out. When I was twelve, we moved to America because of his company.”

            “Do you speak Finnish?”

            “I used to speak in a mixture of Swedish and Finnish. My dad only spoke English at home.”

            His eyes light up. “You should say something in Finnish.”

            “My Finnish is terrible. It’s gonna sound like it was copied and pasted out of Google translate.”

            “Please?” he says. How could you say no to that face?

            “No.”

            “Please?”

            “Fine.” You clear your throat. “Minusta epäsymmetria hymysi houkuttelevampi kanssa enemmän aikaa vietän kanssasi.”

            “That was less sexy than I was hoping. What did that mean?” he asks as you try not to have another ‘is he flirting with you’ crisis. It meant, in broken Finnish, ‘I find the asymmetry of your smile more attractive with the more time I spend with you’.

            “It means you’re a nerd. Tell me about the culture of your blood line.”

            He grimaces. “Most of Alternia wasn’t pretty. But I do know that yellow blood was associated with creating similar things as South Korea.”

            You study the shape of his face as you think about it.

            “So, like a-“ _Don’t say ‘like a space Asian’ why the fuck you gotta be racist, you asshole, stop thinking racist things. Stop thinking things you heard your dad yell at the TV, become your own person._

“ED, if you say ‘like a space Asian’ I am going to knee you in your external shame globes.” he says, amused.

            You rub your temple. “Sorry. Do you speak any Alternian dialects?”

            “No. When I was in first grade and I learned what happened to psychonics, I told myself that Alternian didn’t deserve to be learned by me.” His ears twitch a little like they used to do when you two were debating in class.

            He clears his throat. “Not that I could ever learn a language, anyway. I always found language in general to be illogical, like that motherfucking electron bullshit”

            “You can speak in binary. Say something in binary.”

            He thinks for a few seconds. “01001000 01001111 01010111 00100000 01000010 01001001 01000111 00100000 01011001 01001111 00100000 01000100 01001001 01000011 01001011”

            “That was a mouthful. What does it mean?”

            “It means you’re a racist.” he says. You’re pretty sure that’s not what he said but you have no way of determining otherwise.

            Your waiter returns with your food. He sets a plate in front of both of you before leaving in a huff.

            He kind of reminds you of a young Eridan. He looks like he’s a few years older than you, though.

            Sollux cuts off a piece of his steak. You ignore your food for now, wanting to see this.

            “Why are you staring at me?” he says.

            “No reason. Eat your food.”

            He takes a bite. After chewing for a few seconds, he makes a quiet noise that sounds similar to the ones strangers let out right before they come in your mouth.

            You smirk. “You ok, Sol?”

            “Yea, just, holy fuck.” he says, letting his eyes slip closed.

            “What do you think?”

            “It fucking sucks.” He shoves another bite into his mouth and makes another noise that makes you worry he might actually orgasm in his chair.

            “If you actually come in your pants at a five star restaurant I’m not helping you hide it.”

            “Remember when I said I hadn’t orgasmed in five days? Well, that was Saturday. I just got Hamilton out of my head today, so that’s a total of seven days. Don’t blame me if I pull a _When Harry Met Sally_ in the middle of your favorite restaurant. Stop looking at me like that, ED, I’m not actually gonna do that.”

            You need to stop thinking about him doing that because now you think that Karkat was right about you being a pervert. Again, you wish you could dunk your head in the sink.

            You spend the next fifteen minutes eating absent-mindedly and trying not to get caught staring at him. It’s adorable and you kind of want to punch a whale in the face.

            When he’s finished he tells you stories about his family. His family seems nice. You never thought you would be the one to be envious of him. Oh wait, no, you were also mildly envious of the fact that more than five people actually enjoyed his company. He asks you about your work history, and you told him that at one point, your dad forced you to get a job and you ended up as a stripper for about a year. You had quit when they tried to make you wear a thong that was literally on fire.

            Your waiter returns to take your plates and be generally annoying.

            “Will you be having any desert?” he asks.

            “No thanks.” you say, planning on only tipping fourteen percent like some kind of animal.

            “Good.” he mutters under his breath. “Don’t want anyone wrecking the table cloth with their claws.”

            You’re ticked off. Partly because you can’t believe you used to be this annoying, partly because you strangely don’t want Sollux to have to deal with this. You look at Sollux and see that his ears have actually gone flat. He opens his mouth, but you tap your foot against his leg to stop him. You brought him here, so you are going to handle this. Your heart is thumping loudly with anger.

            “Speak up, sweetheart, so that the head you have shoved up your ass can hear you, too.”

            He looks stunned and so does Sollux.

            “Excuse me, Sir?”

            You open your mouth again and-

 

* * *

 

            “I can’t believe you got us kicked out.” says Sollux, laughing gleefully.

            “Hey, I pulled that shit for you. It wasn’t even my turn.”

            “No, it’s cool.” He takes his glasses out of his lapel and slips them on. “We can put it on Tumblr. Let’s say that I threw a glass of water in his face, and that everyone clapped.”

            You morph your face into mock disbelief. “No way, it was true. I was the glass of water.”

            “Damn it, ED. How do we get revenge? We have to do something.”

            “You and your justice.” You shake your head.

            “Solluxander Captor, all around Alternian bad boy and dispenser of justice in an unjust world.”

            “Oh, look here. Somebody bought the Mass Effect DLC.”

            He grins. “Seriously, though, we should totally do something.” He’s smiling a lot tonight.

            “Like what?”

            “Hire a samurai!”

            You shove him in the shoulder. “Oh, you meme-loving fuck.” He shoves you back and you get an idea.

            “Wait here.” you say, venturing back towards the front of the restaurant.

            “Where are you going?” he asks.

            “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

            Five minutes later you return with a restaurant deed and a smile.

            “What did you do?” he says. You show him the paper.

            He pushes you again. “Oh, you didn’t. You did. I’m gonna call you Bruce Wayne.”

            “I was just learning to love Fishboy Bonaparte.”

            “Anyway, what are you going to be doing with that restaurant?”

            “I’ll fire that guy.” you say, honestly.

            “What about the money?”

            You hadn’t thought about it. You know he wants you to give it to some cause. You can afford to. You think back to one of the first conversations you had with him.

            “Oh, get off the soap box, Sol. I’ll give it all to education.”

            “Good answer.”

            “Heart of gold.”

            “No way. My only goal in life is to advance my race and your race in any way I can. Purely logic based. Now stop talking about hearts.”

            You stop yourself before you call him a sweetheart.

            “Why the fuck did you park so far away?” he complains.

            “I don’t trust valet parking.”

            He grabs your wrist and takes you over to the fence surrounding a golf course. Not a mini golf course, this one is very normal-sized. He starts to climb over the fence.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Short cut.” He hops over the fence with ease.

            You’ve never done this before, but if he can do it, so can you. You loop your shoes through the spaces in the metal wire until you reach the top. You ignore the stupid part of your brain telling you to purposely fall on him. You jump down with less grace than he had. He steadies you with a hand on your chest. The part of your brain that is telling you to just push him against the fence and kiss him is really starting to wear you down.

            You follow him through the trees and tall grass and end up on the closed golf course. You’ve never been here at night before.

            “Is this legal?” you wonder.

            “I’m not sure.” says Sollux, right as the ground behind you is hit by a flashlight beam.

            “I’ll take that as a no.” you say. You both take off laughing, trying not to burst out laughing. Instead of grabbing your wrist, he goes ahead and threads his fingers through yours in an attempt to pull you forward. Yea, like he’s going to beat you.

            You take turns pulling each other until you reach the other side of the fence. To your dismay, Sollux lets go of your hand.

            “Fuck, it’s barbed wire.” you say. Looks like you’re going to jail.

            “Climb under it.” he gets on his stomach and shimmies under it with his elbows. You pause for a moment before following suit, distracted by not staring at his butt. He’s thinner than you, but you have just enough room to get under. The minute you get up he grabs your hand again and leads you to hide behind a recycle bin. You sit for a few minutes, his hand over your mouth to get you to shut up. Your heart is racing and just did about seven things tonight that you’ve never done before. You're trying not to smile against Sollux's hand, but it's difficult. You've smiled so much tonight anyway, so you don't really have anything to hide at thus point. Your face hurts and you can't realize you've grinned more in the last week than you think you ever have in your life

            After a few minutes of this, he lifts him hand and gets to his feet. You follow him, mildly disappointed that you aren’t holding hands anymore but happy that you got to.

            He smiles. “I owe you. Take me home, Fishboy.”

            Your name is Eridan Ampora and you are in deep shit.

 

* * *

 

            “Thanks for driving me home, and for about twelve other things.” he says as you drop him off at his door. “Now stop doing so much for me, you’re making me feel bad.”

            You almost say that his company is enough but stop yourself.

            “Don’t worry about it. It’s just another thing I’m better than you at.”

            He scowls and picks up a package left by his door.

            “What’s that?” you ask, not sure you want him to leave just yet.

            “Oh this? This is Lootcrate.”

            “You can afford Loo-“

            He interrupts you. “Lootcrate saved my life and it can save yours. What is Lootcrate? They ship a box of crap to your house every-“

            “Sol, I know how it works.”

            “You never know what you’re getting. Think of it as 12th Perigee's Eve, every month.” He holds up the box for you. “What’s that? You don’t celebrate 12th Perigee's Eve? Well, you do now so shove some tinsel up your excrement-chute.”

            “Oh my god, Sol, shut up.”

            “If you go to Lootcrate dot com slash Sollux, you can get five dollars off with the promotional code ‘suck my ass’. Don’t forget to like, comment and subscribe.”

            You open his door and push him in.

            “Wait, I forgot to tell you about Audible!” he says, cackling as you close the door in his face.

            Sollux’s jokes are terrible and you hope you get to hear more.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: The Lootcrate speech was actually almost word-for-word of a Jacksfilms add for Lootcrate. Sorry, Jack. Also, I know that “Solluxander” is only about as canon as lesbian Kanaya, but I wanted to use it anyway.
> 
> By the time I post this the History Of Japan meme will probably be dead.
> 
> Also I'm posting the rest of this tomorrow but right now I'm going to bed


	6. The One With The Awkwardness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: This chapter contains, uh, walking in on, uhhh, stuuuuf i am dumb

            It’s noon of the next day. You had to dunk you head in a lot of cold water last night. You know that you’re probably at the point where you can talk to Sollux without an excuse, but that weirdly seems like giving up. You should have purposely left something at his house yesterday.

            You talk with Karkat for a while about how much he hates Adam Sandler, and tell Kanaya that you managed to feed Sollux. She is very pleased about this.

            A few minutes after Karkat leaves to go see Deadpool with Dave for the fourteenth time, you get a message from Sollux.

TA: can you be over here at three?

CA: wwhy

TA: iim debuggiing your computer.

CA: my computer isnt that bad

TA: when ii opened iit the fiir2t thiing ii 2aw wa2 an iinviite two talk two hot ru22iian briide2 that are iintere2ted iin meetiing we2turn men liike me.

CA: this debuggin isnt going to envvolvve bees is it

TA: ii mean, you want your computer fiixed, riight?

CA: you and your fuckin bees

TA: dont mock the bee2.

CA: ill mock as much as i wwant to bee boy

CA: sol

CA: wwhere did you go are wwe still doing this

TA: yea, were 2tiill doiing thii2.

CA: good According to all known laws of aviation, there is no way a bee should be able to fly.

CA: wwhat i didnt say that Its wings are too small to get its fat little body off the ground.

CA: oh FUCK you sol The bee, of course, flies anyway because bees don't care what people think is impossible.

TA: ehehe

TA: dont mock the bee2, fiishboy.

CA: i hate you Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black.

TA: 2ure you do, ed.

TA: when can you get over here?

CA: ill be ovver there around one thirty to shove my foot up your ass Ooh, black and yellow! Let's shake it up a little.

TA: dont be late, priince.

TA: or 2hould ii 2ay

CA: dont you fuckin dare Barry! Breakfast is ready!

TA: bee late.

CA: I FUCKIN HATE YOU “Coming! Hang on a second. Hello?

CA: YOU AND YOUR MOTHERFUCKIN BEE MOVIE HACKING BULLSHIT   \- Barry?

            You stop raging out at him through a phone when you realize that you are probably just going to have to go through the entire script of bee movie before you can type normally again. You get dressed, and spend a few minutes finishing the drawling of his horns before decided to just go over there early. You should probably call ahead, but it’s only a half hour so you doubt he cares.

            You make the your way to his dorm, wondering if you should just tell him today that you like him, because you think you might explode if you don’t.

            You make your way up the stairs to him room. You debate knocking on the door, but he’s barged into your house enough times unannounced that you decide he probably deserves it at this point.

            He’s got his back to you and in front of his computer. He’s coding something that you can’t really understand. He doesn’t seem to hear you walk in and lets out a dreamy sigh. You hear a faint buzzing, which you assume is the bees. Both the pain killer and genetic material-suppressor pills are out, which you assume meant Sollux had both a headache last night and engaged in some classy self-indulgence.

            You drop your bag on the floor. “Hey, Sol. You gonna fix my computer or what?”

            He takes a blue ear plug out before looking back. He inhales sharply, and you wonder if you startled him. You walk to the left side of him. You notice the buzzing noise sounds a little different that the last time you were here. It’s a little louder.

            “What’s that noise? Are the bees ok?” you ask, knowing that he’s going to make some crack about hacking you.

            He shifts his legs together a bit awkwardly. “They’re fine.”

            “Are you sure?” You walk over the bee hive and discover that the noise coming from them is a separate hum. Maybe it’s Sollux’s computer? Whatever, it doesn’t really matter. You get your laptop out and prepare to be judged.

            You take another look at him. His legs are still crossed and his facial expression is uncomfortable. He’s never looked this awkward around you.

            An idea of what he might be doing crosses your mind.

            No, that couldn’t be it. His pants are still on.

            You raise an eyebrow. “Sol, what are you doing.”

            “Nothing.” His eyes are wide and fixated on his computer screen, refusing to look at you.

            “Are you-“

            “No.”

            He totally is. Ok, you walked in on your friend with a vibrator shoved up his nook. The best thing to do now is leave. Definitely don’t say anything to make him feel more awkward.

            “Is this a normal occurrence for you?” you say. No, don’t say that. That’s mean. Stop saying things and get the fuck out of here.

            “Oh, fine. I do this while I code sometimes. It’s not a big deal. It’s normal. This is normal, right?” He lays his head on the table. Oh god, he’s actually really embarrassed about this. You should go. No, say something to make him feel better about it.

            “It’s not, not normal. I’m sure you do weirder things than jamming a sex toy up your nook while you do your nerd stuff.” Wow, you are terrible at this. You should go. Why are you still here?

            He jolts up from the table. “Oh fuck.”

            “What?”

            His eyes close. “I need you to get out of here in the next fifteen seconds.” Yea, that sounds like a good idea. Peace the fuck out.

            “Why?” you say, migrating to grab your stuff.

            “Because reasons. Please.”  You realize you had no idea how long he had been at it before you got here.

            “Are you seriously about to-“

            “Eridan, get the fuck out.” he says, shakily standing up and grabbing the cup of pens he has on his desk with one hand. The other he uses as a cover for the movement in the front of his pants and you really need to get the fuck out. You have passed the acceptable line of invading on his privacy.

            You speed up, going from a leisurely stroll to a rush. He’s tossing pens at you, some with his fingers and some with psychonics to ensure a constant wave of pens. You hurry to open the door as a pen hits you square on the ass, and turn around just and time to see his knees give out and hear him start to swear under his breath.

            You slam the door, sinking to the ground. Fuck, you saw way more than you should of. Granted, you had left when he asked you, but leaving before probably should have been common sense. You feel a wave of guilt. To your horror, the imagine of his legs trembling, bulge writhing under his jeans, and what you think might have been his eyes actually glowing is burned into your brain and you feel even guiltier.

            You have a raging hard-on right now and you think you probably deserve the set-back in your friendship, and the eternity in hell you are going to get for this.

            You walk down to your car. You can’t drive like this, not with that stupid fucking picture popping up in your brain. You end up jerking off to the label on a bottle of Smart Water so you don’t think about it.

            Before you were horny and guilty, now you’re just guilty. You spend the entire car ride back yelling at yourself for not being able to listen to your own stupid brain when it’s giving you good advice.

            You reach your apartment and dunk your head in the sink. Then you hide away from your problems and spend some time completely wrapped in blankets playing Doge 2048. Your phone beeps. You check quickly, hoping that it’s Sollux. It’s not.

CG: WHY THE FUCK IS MY ROOMATE LYING IN THE WATER TRAP WITH ALL OF HIS CLOTHES ON?

CG: WHY IS HE MUMBLING ANGRILY AT HIS GENITALS?

CA: i wwalked in on him in a vvery compromised position \- Adam?

CG: ERIDAN, I WALK IN ON SOLLUX IN A “COMPROMISED POSITION” AT LEAST ONCE A WEEK.

CG: ALTHOUGH, HE’S ALSO KNOWN ME FOR EIGHT SWEEPS.

CG: ALSO WHO THE SHIT IS ADAM?

CA: bee movvie hack \- Can you believe this is happening?

CA: i wwalked in on the conclusion of his compromised position \- I can't. I'll pick you up.

CG: I VERY, VERY MUCH HOPE THAT YOU WERE SMART ENOUGH TO LEAVE RIGHT AWAY ONCE YOU KNEW WHAT WAS HAPPENING.

CA: yea of course Looking sharp.

CA: at least wwhen i realized that he wwas actually gonna, Use the stairs. Your father paid good money for those.

CA: uh Sorry. I'm excited.

CG: I MEAN, YOU PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE LEFT BEFORE THAT. AT LEAST YOU’RE NOT ENTIRELY A TERRIBLE PERSON.

CA: please tell him im sorry Here's the graduate. We're very proud of you, son.

CA: god this stupid hack is humiliatin A perfect report card, all B's.

CG: OH YEA, I’M SURE *YOU’RE* VERY HUMILIATED RIGHT NOW.

CG: I’LL TELL SOLLUX YOU’RE SORRY. BUT YOU NEED TO TELL HIM YOURSELF, TOO.

CA: youre right Very proud.

CG: YOU THINK I DON’T FUCKING KNOW THAT? I AM LITERALLY ALWAYS RIGHT.

CG: SOLLUX IS STILL IN THE SHOWER. I’M CALLING ARADIA. DON’T FORGET TO APOLOGIZE.

CA: havve at least a little faith in me kar Ma! I got a thing going here.

            You should probably wait a while to apologize. That was reasonable, right?

            It definitely wasn’t because you were scared.


	7. The One With The Fluff

            You spend all of Tuesday watching reality TV with a mixture of self-pity and self-hatred. You paint your nails and talk to no one but your fish.

            On Wednesday morning you remember Kanaya’s advice to you about how wallowing in your mistakes does nothing to actually help right them.

            So you sit yourself the fuck down and process some shit. You find that your guilt and fear that Sollux is going to never want to see you again is keeping you from apologizing.

            So you apologize. You leave a few messages in his inbox after you spam Feferi the entire script of Bee Movie to get rid of that stupid hack. He doesn’t respond, but you think you feel a lot better than you would have if you had done nothing.

            Determined not to fall into your usual unhealthy self-destructive tendencies that you often fall into after something bad happens, you spend some time with Karkat and Feferi. You even have a good conversation with Terezi about her paper. You have fun.

            That doesn’t mean that you don’t miss him. You miss his smile more than anything, his conversation, and even the fact that he seemed to actually enjoy your company so much.

            On Thursday night, Aradia messages you.

AA: this is weird

AA: i was planning on saying something like

AA: hey sollux probably isnt going to be mad at you for walking in on him orgasming on the floor forever as long as you properly apologize

AA: i feel weird saying that

AA: why cant you two have normal fights about things that arent orgasms

AA: oh that made me laugh and now i feel bad

CA: i knoww wwevve nevver been formally introduced

CA: maybe now isnt the time for that though

CA: i did apologize but my main concern is that he doesnt feel ashamed about it

CA: wwhile i do miss talking to him for some reason

AA: im glad you think that

AA: youre less of an inconsiderate douchebag than i thought

CA: i deservve that comment

CA: is he ok

CA: i sound like a fuckin mom of course hes fine

AA: yea hes fine

AA: still extremely embarrassed about it

AA: hes always been like that

AA: one time he spilled soda on the floor of a movie theater and we still dont go there

AA: i mean its not even so much that hes mad at you

AA: well yea hes mad at you

AA: but the biggest issue is that hes ashamed to even face you

CA: wwell he really shouldnt be it wwas one hundred percent my fault

CA: and thank you

AA: no problem

            You attempt to fall asleep. Your brain decides to once again flash you the image of Sollux falling on his knees like an anime school girl. Your brain also tries to get you to mentally remove his pants. Why are you such a pervert? You get up to dunk your head in the sink again before deciding that your sink isn’t big enough. So you make the three minute long walk to the ocean under-looking you apartment.

            Your toes curl against the sharp rocks as you slip your shoes of. You strip down to your underwear; it’s too dark for anyone to see you.

            The water is cold, but you’re used to cold water. Instead of wasting ten minutes wadding out, you dive right in, ignoring how annoyed your genitals are with you and welcoming the numbing around your brain. You do this all the time in the summer, but spring just started a few days ago and it’s soon enough.

            You admire the blackness of the water, the salty smell, the sound of the waves lapping against the rocky shore. Strands of seaweed float by you as you roll your way under the water. It’s silky between your fingers and against your skin. When you float on your back, you spot the Gemini constellation.

            No, you don’t. The Aries constellation is currently overhead. But wouldn’t it have been great if you had seen Gemini?

            A light rain has you rushing for shore, worried for your phone that you left uncovered. You wander across the rocks to your pile of clothes and see that your phone is lit up to signify someone texting you.

            You feel your heart pound as you see the name twinArmageddons.

            You message him back as you make your way from the beach to your shower.

TA: ii would liike twoo reque22t a favor

TA: ii kno we hav that 2tupiid turn ba22ed favpr thiing and you kiind a outdiiiid ur2e;f at the re2terant

TA: but ii thiink that you 2eeiing me come oon the fllor ii2 enouhg

TA: beca2e that wa22nt humilitatng

TA: remember when tht happened

TA: cauu2e ii do

TA: ii probably ould have prevented that iif ii hadnnnt have gone a fuckkiing week wiiiithout con2entiing two

TA: thiiiing2

TA: 2o yea you owe me favor

CA: a course wwhat do you need

CA: and are you drunk

TA: ya2 and ya22

TA: can ii come ove?r

CA: sure

CA: ill be at my house in about five minutes

CA: where are you

TA: about 2even miinut2 awey

TA: my bu22 broke down er 2omethiing

CA: should i pick you up

TA: no ii can get ther

TA: iit would prob2 ju2f wa2tetiime

CA: keep messaging me so i know youre ok

TA: ok ii iiw2h ii sdfkl ii gaysfa

CA: god sol wwhat the fuck happened to you

TA: my jazz combo w2 playiiiing and aaa usually giivve2 me a riidde caue 2he play2 tromboner but 2he ent home wiith terezii t go make out wit her or 2omethiing iidgaf

TA: 2he a2ked me iif ii wa2 gonnna be ok gettiing home and ii wa2 liike yea iit2 not liike the ontly bu22 i can take ii2 ogonn a break down

TA: then 2omeone offernd me a 2hot

CA: wwhat do you play

TA: 2exyphon

CA: sexyphon

TA: ff bought me oen a2 a joke wen ii wa2 iin miiiddiilee scool

TA: jazz 4 your sol

TA: ii ended up really good

CA: howw many did you havve

TA: one

TA: ii am liightweiight pl2 love me anyway ii diidiint thiink iit would do thii2 two me

TA: iimm gona diie]

TA: iim dead

TA: *ded*

TA: fuck iit2 haiiling

TA: motherfuckgnii 2eattle waether jegu2 chrii2t fuck dude motherfuckiing we2t coa2t bull22hiit jegu2 can you fukiin beliieve thii2 2hiitz

TA: iim hiidiing until iit 2top2 look2 liike iill be fiive miintue late

TA: recomed me moe viideo game2 ii realy liiked ‘off’

TA: ?ED

CA: im in the shower but i can get out if you wwant

TA: nah iit2 cool ii can entrtan my2rlf wiith thii2 mermaii2d dre22 up game.

TA: ii made me lookko

TA:

CA: uh

CA: should havve pegged you as a conkers bad fur day fan a long time ago

TA: ii forgot what my honr2 looked liike

TA: ii made you tow a22holiia

CA: you really didnt havve to

TA:

CA: uh

CA: thanks

CA: its vvery lovvley 

TA: ju2t 2tho you know ii gavve you the wiitest 2kiiiin po22abl

TA: 2ho off that englii2h priide

CA: sol im finnish

TA: iim an aliiend man iit2 a miircle ii knoww any geogrpahy at a;l

CA: you wwere born here

TA: II DONT GIIVE A MUSHRON ANO2 WHOL

TA: al2o 2orry ii had two make u a women they diidnt gave men2

TA: on of tho2e humuman gender thiing2 or 2omethiing

TA: waiit ii jgue22 that2 a 2ex thiing ii am 2o confu2ed halp

CA: if you really dont understand gender you should ask fef not me

CA: ivve nevver thought about it and alwways felt androgynous

TA: do you liiiike ur emermaiid

CA: sure

CA: reminds me of my drag queen days

TA: ii 2aw a drag 2hho2w once and ii had no idea wwat the ufck wa2 goiin on

TA: human2 and theyre 2exii2m and giinger iidenty

TA: and 2o many fuckiing 2exu2aliity2

TA: iim about two get on the elivarter

TA: ii ran iin two a wall

TA: iil bee there iin fiiiive miintte2

            You towel dry your hair, slipping into your softest pair of skinny jeans and an oversized hoodie. This is the most dressed down he will ever see you. You try to suppress the smile that keeps creeping up on your face with the thought of seeing him again. You hear a knock at your door and rush to open it.

            He stares at you with a glazed over look in his eyes. His glasses are tucked into the lapel of a suit that looks almost exactly like the one he borrowed from Dave, except with a blue collar and the name of a jazz combo across his sash. A yellow flush has dusted itself over his checks and nose. He’s carrying a black case with him that you assume is his sax. His fangs have completely escaped to the outside of his mouth.

            “Sup.” he says, lisp more prominent than usual.

            He sets his saxophone down. “ED, look at my feet. They’re so tiny. How do they hold me up?” he slurs as he topples over directly into your arms. He’s freezing and soaking wet but your heart still flips over in your chest.

            You steady him to his feet, bringing his sax inside and shutting the door.

            “Do you want to take a shower?” you say, concerned that he might freeze.

            “Sure. Just please teach me how use, firtht. Fiiirtht. Fist.”

            You lead him to your bathroom, turning on the dual jets of water to a temperature you think he’ll like. You also lower your toilet seat after remembering that trolls can’t pee standing up, because you don’t think that Sollux has the motor skills right now to not hurt himself if he tries to pee with the seat up. You will never forgive yourself if Sollux breaks a bone from trying to pee. You might show up at his hospital bed to laugh at him, though.

            He starts to take off his clothes and you figure this is your que to leave. He mentions something about there being a dry shirt in his saxophone case. You discover a Majora’s Mask tee-shirt in it, which you probably should have guessed at this point. He also has a Fake Book with a few wet pages that you lay down to dry next to your sketch pad.

            You return to the bathroom to leave the shirt and pick up his wet clothes, setting his glasses on an end table. You catch his silhouette though the warped glass of your shower. He’s humming _New York State of Mind_ , which sounds surprisingly melodic and a good way to know he hasn’t passed out standing up.

            You toss his clothes into the dryer, checking the tag on his pants to see if he could fit into your pants if you lent him any.

            No, his waist is two inches smaller than yours. Damn, Sollux was skinny. At least you tried. This world was not good enough for you.

            You spend a few minutes sitting outside the bathroom door listening to him hum. You also do a quick Google search and learn that yellow bloods are more susceptible to alcohol. You click the link to learn more about psychonics and read a little about what they used to do on Altern-

            Oh god, that’s awful. Your stomach and heart clench up and you feel physically sick and you are so, so glad that Sollux is with you and safe. You almost want to just barge into the shower so you can hug him, but that would be far too creepy.

            The water turns off and you don’t open the door until you’re sure he has clothes on. You find that he’s stuck your hair dryer down the waistband of his underwear. You force yourself to look away from his legs and you remove the hairdryer.

            “Aw, that was keeping me warm.” he pouts.

            You take off your hoodie. “Use this. It won’t burn you.” You had burned your skin enough times from sticking that hairdryer down your underwear after you had gone swimming.

            He seems overjoyed with your hoodie, curling into the fetal position on your couch to get his knees underneath the fabric.

            “Do you want me to take you home?” you ask. You haven’t taken care of someone like this before.

            He looks out the window and so do you. You’re not sure how safe it is to drive in the current Seattle bullshit weather right now.

            “Nevermind. Have you eaten?”

            “Yes.”

            “Really?”

            “No.”

            You sigh and walk towards your kitchen, grabbing for an apple to slice up. You discover your fruit fly problem has vanished, thanks to the spider that you spared. You slather some peanut butter on his apple slices and come back to see he’s found the shoe box of pictures you keep under your couch.

            You sit down next to him and discover he’s staring at the photo of you when you were seven or so, riding the back of a metal statue of a horse kicking up at the park, with the Napoleon style French Revolution hat your mom had given you all long as you promised to never tell your father. The hat was way too big for you at the time and the stone-cold expression you were trying to give is ruined by the stupid smile on your face.

            You hand him the plate of apples and discover that there are two yellow tears rolling down his cheeks.

            “Sol, why are you crying.”

            His eyes widen. “You look so happy! Look, you’re smiling. You're so pure and small.”

            “You’ve seen me smile a million times.” It's true.

            “But your face is so, like, free from pain. It’s so fucking cute.”

            Before you can stop yourself, you wipe one of the tinted droplets away with your thumb and he flops into your lap while he eats.

            “Go home, you’re drunk.” you say, wondering if you should run a hand through his hair.

            "Shuudup, I’m not that _(hic)_ drunk.” He rolls off the couch and into a ball on the ground.

            “You just cried at a picture of me smiling.” You pick up the drunken ball of Sollux and place it back on the couch. He smiles at you. You've seen him smile enough times before, but he's missing the edge he usually carries with him. His face seems softer. It's pretty.

            “Fuck the _(hic)_ shut up.”

            You go to take his dishes to the sink and brush your teeth. His book that you left out to dry seems ok, so you put it back in his jazz case. You’ll probably just let Sollux crash on your couch tonight.

            You come back and discover that he’s not on the couch, and find he’s wandered his way to your bedroom. The hoodie you lend him is on the floor next to your bed. He has the blankets pulled over his head, and you can see the tips of his horns poking up from under the covers.

            “Sollux?” you say, cautiously.

            “Sollux isn’t here.”

            “I didn’t say you got to sleep in my bed.”

            The blankets tighten. “It’s so soft.”

            You think about it. You’ve never slept on your couch before, but you can probably do it. You blame the fact that he usually sleeps in a pile of garbage because he can’t afford a synthetic repercoon, and the fact that he’s being so unbelievably adorable right now for you being so nice.

            “I’ll make it up to you.” he says, muffled. He doesn't have to.

            “How?”

            “I’ll let you sleep with me.”

            He’s offering sex. You have to admit, you’re tempted. But as much as you want to have sex with him, your desire to have a long-lasting friendship is more prominent. Sollux didn’t speak to you for days after you walked in on him, and you doubt he or you would ever forgive you if you took advantage of him. The bottom line is it’s not fair to him.

            You breathe out. “No. You’re too drunk to be making a decision about sex.”

            His head pops up from under the blankets. He looks confused.

            “What? No, not sex. You’re an idiot. Not that kind of sleepy with.” he says, scooting to the far side of the bed and lifting up the blankets.

            Oh. “Oh.” you say, somewhat dumbfounded.

            You’ve never actually done this before. You pull on one of your more comfortable shirts and slide out of your pants.

            You get into your bed every day. It shouldn’t be that hard with another person in it. You get under the blankets and immediately find yourself wrapping your arms around Sollux and laying your head down on his chest.

            You squeeze your eyes shut as your hit by a wave of endorphins, trying to keep your breathing from speeding up.

            He laughs. “I didn’t say you got to cuddle with me.”

            “I’m sorry.” You try to let go and give him his space by shifting your knee over his legs so that you’re even closer than before.

            “ED, you can’t be that lonely.”

            You think about it. You had always been able to get sex; even if it wasn’t from people you knew or cared about. But sex didn’t satisfy every need you had.

            “You are that lonely.” he says, a bit quieter this time. He runs a hand through your hair and makes a comment about how weird human ears are.

            His phone buzzes a few times.

            “That’s either AA or KK. Can you tell them Sollux ok?”

            “Sure.” You unwind your limbs from his so you can grab his phone, which is in the pocket of the hoodie on the floor. Of course he uses Samsung. You open his conversation with Aradia.

(sent at nine pm)AA:                      

TA:

AA:

TA: oh 2hiit we have two play iin thiirty 2econd2

 

(sent one minute ago)AA: sollux did you get home ok

AA: sollux

TA: iit2 eriidan

TA: he2 fiine he2 wwiith me

TA: oh god hii2 phone ii2 doubliin evvery ii

AA: you should tell karkat too

TA: iil patch hiim though

(just entered)CG: SOLLUX, IF I HAVE TO GO DOWNTOWN IN THIS WEATHER TO COME GET YOU I’M NOT GOING TO BE VERY FUCKING PLEASED ABOUT IT.

CG: WHERE ARE YOU?

TA: iit2 eriidan

TA: 2ollux ii2 pa22ed miild iintoxiicatiion at thii2 poiint

CG: OH GOD.

CG: ERIDAN, I’VE KNOWN YOU FOR A LONG TIME AND I THINK I CAN TRUST YOU AT THIS POINT. BUT IF I FIND OUT THAT YOU TAKE SEXUAL ADVANTAGE OF MY FRIEND I WILL ACTUALLY GO THROUGH WITH THE NUMEROUS DEATH THREATS I’VE GIVEN YOU.

TA: dont wwory about iit

CG: I’M SERIOUS

TA: jeez kar iill giivve the phone two hiim iif iit make2 you feel better

TA: yo fcuker2 ii2 2olu2 er eriidan already deniied 2ex from me even thou ii diinnt actually a2k tru 2ttory

AA: ill have what hes having

CG: ERIDAN DID THE SAME WITH ME AT SENIOR PROM.

(just left)AA: im glad youre ok but please message me in the morning

CG: I’M GOING TO BED.

CG: TAKE CARE OF HIM.

            You plug in his phone to charge. To your surprise, he curls right up into you. You wrap your arms around him again, pleased that you can hear his heartbeat through his shirt.

            “You’re warm.” he says “And soft. Must be all that weird leg hair.”

            You bring a leg above the blanket. “Better than your weird hairless baby skin.”

            He giggles. “It’s weird. It’s thicker on your caves and gets finer up your thigh.”

            You swat his hand from your leg and return under the blankets. You slide your leg between his and he curls up on your chest. You have to make some minor horn adjustments so they don’t poke you in the face and you can tell he’s about to pass out. He’s muttering semi-nonsensically.

            “I know the founding fathers weren’t perfect people, but I think they were pretty ahead of their time. Why did we ruin America for them?”

            “I don’t know, Sol. I’m still Finnish.”

            “I will single-handedly fix America.”

            “I’m rooting for you.”

            He laughs. “No you aren’t, you piece of shit. I’m so glad that we threw all your stupid fuckboy tea into the ocean. For America.”

            “No more _Hamilton_ for you.”

            He lifts his head, giggling. Before you can react, he gives you a soft, absent-minded kiss on the corner of your mouth. You’re not sure what he meant by it, and you doubt he will even remember the next day. You, however, are incapable of forgetting that.

            He mutters one last comment about Lafayette deserving better before drifting off. Your brain wants you to drift off to, but you’re not sure you want this moment to be over.

            You take one last glance at the tips of his horns before closing your eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one more chapter after this, that I will put up sometimes tomorrow.


	8. The One With Sex And Complaining And Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't originally going to post this, but one of my friends threatened to murder me with a spoon if i didn't. There's sex in this, so if you don't want to read it ~~too bad get wrecked~~  
>  I am a terrible person

            You awake, daylight seeping in through your windows. You’re clutching onto your stuffed whale, and you wonder if your brain had finally snapped and you had just imagined Sollux last night.

            When you roll over, you see a note left on your night stand. It just says “thank2” written in terrible handwriting.

            Why did he leave? You rub your eyes as you ponder this. You wonder if you should try messaging him about it. He did message you first last time. You decided to waste a few hours to see if he texts you. You buy some groceries and contemplate asking Karkat for advice, but that would prove him right and you don’t want to do that. You organize the next random fun night with Feferi for a bowling contest. You don’t even have to ask her to invite Sollux, she does anyway.

            It’s now nine pm. It’s been long enough. You message him.

CA: did you get home ok

CA: not that im wworried

CA: ok fine im wworried

TA: oh.

TA: iim fiine.

CA: howw pathetic wwould it be if i asked you wwhy you left this morning wwithout wwaking me up

TA: relatiively.

TA: ii left becau2e becau2e ii diidnt thiink you wanted me two 2tay.

CA: OH MY FUCKING GOD SOL

CA: I DO NOT NOT LIKE YOUR COMPANY

CA: STOP MAKIN ME SAY NICE THINGS

TA: ok fiine ii left becau2e ii diidnt bru2h my teeth before ii went to bed and ii wa2 worriied ii miight 2mell bad or 2omethiing

TA: ii spent the la2t hour wa2hiing my mouth out.

CA: ok, i cant handle this anymore

CA: get the fuck ovver here

TA: why?

CA: because theres something i need to make clear to you

TA: you know, iit2 funny.

CA: wwhat is you fuckin asshole

TA: ok ii may have been paciing out2iide your door for the la2t hour.

            You set your phone down, putting in some contact lenses as fast as possible incase shenanigans ensure. Your heart thumps as you open the door. Sollux is twenty feet down the hall with his back turned to you.

            “Sollux, get the fuck in here.” you say. He turns and quickly walks into your room, hands behind his back. You shut the door behind him, almost hitting his butt.

            “Why were you pacing outside my room?” you ask, a strange mixture of annoyed and overjoyed.

            He holds up a white pad that you recognize as your sketch book. How did he get that? Oh god, it’s the one that has the drawing of his horns in it. You must have put it in his case by mistake instead of the book he brought. Yea, there it is on the counter. You should give that back to him.

            “Why did it take you an hour to pluck up the courage to return that to me?” you ask “You didn’t look at it, did you?”

            He hands it to you. ‘ED, looking at your personal sketch book would be snooping.”

            Oh, good.

            “So I looked at everything.”

            You drop the book.

            He keeps running his mouth. “So, what was that you wanted to tell me?” He’s trying to act like a cocky bastard but you can tell he’s nervous.

            “I think you already know at this point.” You force yourself to look him in the eyes.

            “Well, we both know that I’m not going to say it, so how about you do?”

            You scoff. “Oh, why do I have to say it?”

            He’s smiling now. “I don’t know, maybe because you were the one hugging me until I suffocated last night.”

            “I was not.” you say, one hundred percent aware that you were.

            “You know, when I untangled you from me, you kept whimpering until I put that stuffed whale in your arms.”

            “You kissed me.” you blurt out before you can stop yourself.

            His cocky grin is replaced by a look of surprise.

            You glare at him. “Now if you don’t want me to return the favor, you should probably go.” Did you actually just say that? There's a few moments of silence before he speaks.

            “I hate you.”

            “I dunno Sol, you’re not leaving.”

            He grabs the ends of your scarf.

            “What are you doing?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

            He tugs and you are sent stumbling into him. You spend exactly one second steadying your feet before you grab the back of his neck and press your lips against his. He immediately threads his hands through your hair, tilting his head and letting you slip your tongue between his lips. You’ve been kissing for about seven seconds and you’ve already cut your mouth on one of his teeth.

            You suck at his bottom lip, biting down just a little as payback for what is probably going to happen to your mouth today. You feel him sharply exhale and take a moment to think about the fact that you’re actually kissing him.

            However, when he responds by running a hand roughly under your shirt and up your back, you decide that a better word than kissing would be ‘pent-up, slightly sloppy mouth war’. You let your hand on his neck migrate to grab at his hair, breaking the kiss for a few seconds to go in on the left side this time.

            You have a better understand of his kissing style this time. His lips are perfectly soft, and you make him gasp every time you let your tongue graze over them. You’ve never kissed anyone with a forked tongue before. It’s a little strange, but he tastes like honey and you can’t get enough.

            You let your hands grab at his hips that are just a bit too thin, lifting him up so you can hook your arms under his legs. You put a protective hand behind his head, so you don’t hurt him when you ram his body against the wall. He’s grabbing at your hips and you pull his shirt over his head, keeping him pinned flush against you. You plant open-mouthed kisses against his neck, fully enjoying how much everything you do makes his breath hitch.

            “Shit, will you take your stupid scarf off?” he says, attempting to unwind it from your neck. You take if off and he tosses it somewhere with his discarded shirt. You continue kissing over his collar bone until you hear a ‘fuck’ escape his lips. So you fixate on that spot, sucking a yellow hicky. He actually lets out a moan, something that you suspect he’s keeping himself from doing. You can feel his bulge wriggling against your stomach, even through the three layer of clothing. You run your hands against his bare sides, fingers brushing over his grub scars.

            You want him squirming. But you should probably ask before you shove a hand down his pants.

            “Can I touch you?” you ask, taking off his glasses and tossing them on his shirt.

            He responds by shoving your hand between his legs. You run your fingers against the movement in his pants and you continue to assault his mouth with yours. His pants need to not be on right now.

            So you let him down on his shaking feet, pleased when he falls to the ground. Apparently he forgot how to stand. You take a few moments to admire the image of him completely flustered, on his knees with obvious arousal under his jeans.

            “Stop laughing at me, fuckhead.” he says, returning to his feet and slipping off his vans. You laugh it him a little, like a fuckhead.

            He lets you scoop him up and carry him princess-style to your bed, complaining the entire time. You set him down before climbing back on top of him, letting him work your shirt off while you open his legs with your knee.

            You remember why you let him down from the wall in the first place as you rush to get his pants down. He lifts his butt off the mattress so you can unhook his belt and slide of his jeans. Your fingers go straight for the outline of his nook, teasing him with your fingers.

            He grabs the sides of your face to kiss you again. You break it to work your belt off. The moment you’re done, he hooks one leg around your waist and the other over your right shoulder. He uses the back of his foot to pull you down so he can bite at your lips. How the fuck can his legs do that? It isn’t fair. His ass is directly in line with your cock, you briefly consider just dry humping him until you come in your pants.

            But your biggest goal right now is to make him feel good. You want to make him squirm against your mouth and moan and soak through his underwear and you want to outshine everyone else who’s tried to do this to him.

            His bulge is already close enough to your mouth. You unwind his legs from your back and shoulder, and hook your fingers under the fabric of his slightly damp underwear to pull them down.

            You were half expecting two bulges. But no, he only has one. The last inch, however, splits off into a fork like his tongue. You settle himself between his legs, earning a glace.

            “What are you doing?” he asks.

            You look up at him as innocently as possible, placing the underside of your chin on top of his bulge.

            “Nothing.” you say, eyes wide.

            “I fucking hate you.”

            You kiss up the sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

            “Maybe be a little nicer to me right now, Sol.”

            “I’m sorry. I don’t hate you.”            

            You flatten your tongue and run it up the length of his bulge. You slip the thin tip between your lips, looking up at him again.

            “Fucking damn it, Eridan. Ok, I enjoy your company.”

            You reward him with another lick and a few inches in your mouth.

            “Fuck, you look fantastic down there.”

            That’s enough for you to stop teasing him. You haven’t done this to a troll in a long time, but who are you to back down when it comes to an oral fixation. When you take him all the way in your mouth, he slides a hand through your hair and traces over your ears. You let your lips and tongue work against him, your hands rubbing up his slightly quivering thighs. His bulge is still moving, which makes things a bit more difficult, but the muffled sounds he’s making are all worth it.

            Muffled. He’s got his other arm over his mouth. That needs to stop.

            So you slide his bulge out of your mouth, and place a finger into his nook.

            He likes that. You can actually feel a tremor go through him. So you slip your tongue in and lap at his nook until there are two hands threading through your hair. His thighs are tight against the sides of your head.

            He tastes slightly less salty that a human, and he fact that he’s completely hairless is off putting. But it doesn’t matter if he’s an alien, because he’s your friend; your sexy friend who you just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about who has your tongue jammed up his nook. You can finally hear the sounds he’s making. He’s not a wailer, but you can hear him mutter random snippets of words, some of which sound like your name.

            You slide a finger in with your tongue, curling it and rubbing against the cluster of nerves that you hadn’t been able to reach.

            Now he’s squirming. “Holy fuck, Eridan.” He mutters something else about an oral fixation and Sigmund Freud being a jackass and you slip in another finger to get him to shut up.

            It’s kind of a tight fit, and your mouth is getting tired but you want to watch him come so badly. You move your fingers a little faster and let them do most of the work, spending a few minutes just listening to him. You can feel him thrashing a bit as he nears the edge. He’s actually humping your face now, something that you will make fun of him for later.

            He lets out some higher-pitched breaths, arching his back off the bed. You let his legs fall over your shoulders, a drop of him running down your chin. You don’t care, because he’s so close. Your underwear is suffocating your dick and you are in serious danger of comming without even getting your pants off. You try thinking about Ayn Rand until you're in more controll. 

            His thighs clench around your head and he fucking comes right in your face. He moans out your name, louder than a mutter this time. You feel him tense up and a small part of you wishes that he had forgotten to take a suppressor pill. God, you were a kinky piece of shit; like he’s not already soaking your mouth and bed enough.

            You lower his legs back down on your bed carefully. What you thought was going to be a cool down is you being flipped on your back, your pants and underwear being pulled down a few inches.

            “Can I fuck you?” he asks.

            You’re not going to beg.

            “Please.” you beg.

            He doesn’t bother to tease you, just grabbing your dick and guiding it to his nook. This gives you exactly one second to slap on a condom that you had in your back pocket for reasons you don’t need to get into. You had forgotten that feminine genitalia was capable of multiple orgasms. His bulge hasn’t even sheathed yet.

            You get about an inch in him before you both make a noise of pain and he topless over. Sollux’s nook was the tightest thing your dick had ever been in. He actually managed to break the condom, something that had never happened to you. You place it in the garbage can beside your bed.

            “Oh yea, I forgot.” he says.

            “Forgot what?”

            “I never actually un-tense my abdominal muscles, so that happens sometimes.”

            “Sol, you literally just orgasmed twenty seconds ago.”

            “Yea and I tensed up.”

            You almost say something along the lines of ‘what is wrong with your body and your Chinese finger-trap nook’ but decide that isn’t sexy for some reason.

            So you flip him onto his side, giving him the softest kiss of the night and run your hands slowly against his sides. You take of your pants and underwear so you can be completely naked, pressed smoothly against him. He wraps his arms around you, and you continue to plant lazy kisses against his lips. You want him to relax.

            You squeak when you feel something wrap around your dick. Sollux breaks the kiss, and you both look down. His bulge has wrapped itself around your cock and is squeezing you. This is adorable.

            He swats his bulge away, muttering to it angrily. You make a noise of protest. He sighs overdramatically and gets off the bed. He guides your legs so they’re spread over the edge has you put your feet on the ground. He reaches forward with his mouth and-

            “No.”

            He looks up, ticked off.

            “I’m going to need to go through some serious conditioning before I’m ready to let your teeth anywhere near my dick.” you say.

            He scoffs. Red and blue beams of light tease against the tip of your cock.

            “Aren’t you only supposed to use that for emergencies?” you ask, trying to hide the raggedness of your breath.

            “You are an emergency.”

            “What else can you do with that?”

            He thinks for a second. “If my life depended on it, I could create an optic blast strong enough to melt your internal organs.”

            “Shut the fuck up and tell me if you ever do this to yourself.”

            “Not really. It can get hard to control when I’m, uh, I just use that vibrator most of the time.” He brushes his fingers against his bulge.

            You pull him back onto the bed, psychonics still buzzing over your dick as you rub two fingers slowly up his nook. The look of bliss on his face while you stretch him out is perfect.

            “I have a question.” you ask.

            “What?”

            “What were you thinking about when I walked in on you?”

            “Defiantly not you.”

            “Aww, Sol.”

            “Fine” He closes his eyes. “I may have been entertaining the idea of you walking in on me. Just didn’t think you would actually do it.”

            You think he’s ready and you let him climb on top of you. You put on another condom, thankful that you have them virtually everywhere in your house. He descends slower this time.

            “Have you ever _fuck_ had sex with a human?”

            “I let Dave stick his dick in me for science, once.”

            “You always know what to say.”

            He finishes sliding down your dick. He’s still tight, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much and when he slides up it feels really, really good.

            He speeds up, moving his hips at a slightly different angle than you’re used to. But again, you don’t care if there’s an alien riding you right now because he’s looking at you like he wants to memorize your entire face.

            He puts his hands on either side on you and bends over so he can stick his tongue in your mouth while he fucks you.

            His nook is so warm and when he kisses down your neck you embarrass yourself by how loud you’re getting. He's so annoyingly gorgeous right now, and you don't want to forget the way his face looks when his nook is full of you.

            Without thinking, you smack his butt. You're about to apologize when he squeaks, reveling a kink that you will probably exploit another day if given the chance. You do spend some time running your hands against his ass.

            He gives a particularly hard thrust and you moan out his name before you can stop yourself. He smirks at that.

            So you flip him onto his back. You are going to wreck his shit for that.

            But first, you just want to spend a moment thinking about the fact that he’s letting you do this to him, he’s letting you, you, do this to him. Because he wants to. He wants to have sex with you. He’s known you for more than five minutes and he still wants to have sex with you. Not just anyone, Sollux. Someone who you really, really like.

            He clears his throat and you realized that you’ve been hugging him for the last thirty seconds. Whoops.

            So you slide your cock out of him until just the tip is inside him, before slamming back into him in one motion. You do it again, and again, and somehow end up pounding mercilessly into him as he shoves his face into the crook of your neck and bites down carefully.

            He hooks his legs around your back, squeezing them to try to get you to go even harder on him.

            “Damn it Eridan, that feels so fucking good.” he wines. You will laugh at him about that later when your mouth isn’t busy with non-stop moans and nonsensical ‘I want you so bad’s.

            You feel him try to arch his back again, but he can’t under your entire one hundred and seventy pounds. You will tease him about that later, too.

            So he ends up squirming against you, bulge wriggling across your stomach as he loses it. You pull back so you can see his face, thankfully for the contact lenses.

            His eyes are actually glowing and he shoves his face into your shoulder, shaking.

            That’s all the growing warmth in your stomach needs, unable to quiet yourself down as you moan into him, giving a few more shaky thrusts until you collapse.

            You feel his bulge retract inside of him. There are a few moments of silence before you speak. You really like Sollux, and you want the first thing you say to him after this to be something he remembers for the rest of his life.

            “Get wrecked, hoe.”

            “Oh, everything hurts.”

            “Get fucking wrecked.”

            He laughs. “Get the hell out of me.”

            You slide carefully out of his nook and are pleased when he curls up on your chest and intertwines his legs with yours. You side the condom off, tossing it into the trash can that you are very glad is beside you bed and that you will probably burn tomorrow.

            “That was a wild ride.” he says.

            “Oh, it wasn’t that crazy.”

            “Some anger came out.”

            “I don’t know, Sol. A lot of stuff came out.” You look down to the honey-tinted stain he left on your blankets. He hits you in the face with a pillow.

            “Ow!” you exclaim “God, my throat hurts.”

            He returns to your chest. “That’s what happens when you wail for forty minutes.”

            “I will sue you.”

            He groans. “Oh god, I fucked modern royalty. I’m about to show up on the news.”

“Don’t worry. I’m as under-the-radar as my ego will let me.” You wrap your arms around him. He kisses you again, softer and lazier.

            “So how was it fucking someone you actual knew?” he asks.

            “I could take it or leave it.”

            “You literally stopped to hug me at one point.”

            “Fine. It was fantastic. I would do it a million more times in the future if you’d let me. Now shut the fuck up.”

            “Are you asking me out?”

            “Call it whatever you want to call it, Sol, I don’t fucking care at this point.” You blame post-orgasm euphoria for making you talk like this.

            “You sound like you’re about to serenade me with _Sadder but Wiser Girl_.” He kisses you again, and again. “Fine, Fishboy. Now let go of me, I need to pee.”

            You unwind your various limbs from him. He gets to his feet, immediately falling over for the second time today. You burst out laughing.

            “Stop fucking laughing, you asshole. Gross, there is fluid coming out of me. Sex is disgusting.” He drags his naked body across the floor to your bathroom with his elbows. He grabs his glasses and sets them on your nightstand on his way back. He’s on his feet, but something is a bit off.

            “You’re walking funny.”

            “Shut up.”

            You stop him before he can get back in bed with you.

            “Twirl for me.”

            His eyes widen. “Why?”

            “Because I didn’t get a good look.”

            He groans and spins around. You spend way too much try staring at his ass and make him twirl a few more times before he called a dumbass.

            You get under the blankets and pull them up so he can, too. He pulls you against him and you kiss the tip of one of his horns.

            “I am so fucking swollen. What did you do to me?” he says.

            “What you asked me to do.” 

            “Shut the fuck up. Can I keep that drawing of me?” he asks.

            “Sure. Take it when you leave.”

            “I don’t have to be anywhere until tomorrow morning. My parents are forcing me to go fishing with them.”

            “Are you asking me if you can stay?” you ask, a smile creeping on your face.

            “No. Yes. Shut the fuck up.”

            “Yes. Please stay. Stop telling me to shut the fuck up, fuckhead.”

            A thought pops into your head.

            “Sol, how old are you?”

            “I’m ten.”

            You panic for a half second before you realize that he probably still measures his age in sweeps.

            “Oh, sorry.” he says “I’m twenty-one, I think. Something like that. It’s April first. I guess that was my human April fools joke. How old are you?”

            “Nineteen going on dead.”

            He laughs. He goes to position on of your pillows and he finds a book between the mattress and bed frame. Oh god, you thought you had burned that along with your poetry book.

            “ED, what the fuck is this?”

            You groan. “It’s a book on absence.”

            He laughs and flips through it. “I mean, I’m one for making your own decisions, but I feel like this book exists just to shame human women into waiting until marriage.”

            “Yea, that was a gift from my aunt. She had bad eyesight and thought I was a girl.”

            “There’s a list of things written in here about how I know if I’m ready to have sex.”

            “What does it say?”

            He smirks. “If you’ve known them for a year and they haven’t exhibited any homosexual or bisexual behaviors.”

            “Oh, it does not say that.”

            He points to a passage. It does say that and you almost fall of the bed laughing.

            “Oh god. It doesn’t even say anything like ‘when you trust and want to have sexual intercourse with someone’. Yes, that is my way of telling you that I trust you.”

            “Well, I’m glad.”

            “You kind of earned it.”

            You would make a snarky comment about that but decide that it’s best if you don’t. So you just kiss him.

            He trusts you. You want to do whatever you can to not break that. You feel like you’ve made some personal growth.

            You feel your eyes start to close as you take in everything; the way he smells and the way he feels against your body. He had passed out the moment you had stopped talking to him. You wish you could do that.

            You drift off with the knowledge that this time, he will still be here when you wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the word 'fuck' in this entire document 126 times


	9. The One Where It's An Epologe Also I Can't Spell Epologe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't spell

            Your name is Eridan Ampora and you are happy.

            Sure, you and Sollux fight sometimes. He’s absolute shit at taking hints and you quickly learned that having a few eye-opening months and then getting laid wasn’t going to automatically turn you into a perfectly non-bigoted person who never made mistakes. Having him around wasn’t going to magically fix it. But he did help. A lot. He helped you help yourself, as the saying goes. And you tried to return the favor as often as possible.

            You got to be a strategist after all. It turned out that Ted Cruz wasn’t just the Zodiac Killer, he was also a hostile alien leader sent to organize an invasion. You had been able to organize an army of civilians for _Viva La Resistance_ and take down the growing threat with almost no casualties. Sollux became your right hand man, and you both (and Terezi) set up a new, more fair government after president Trump abolished the entire old one by selling it to the Zodiacians for hair products.

            The nature of your relationship was strange. As far as romance went, you were fully monogamous and your red relationship with just a bit of black was enough for him. You both were more open when it came to sex (as long as you described every sexual encounter with another person in excruciating humorous detail), as for his species natural polygamy and your need to suck every dick in the world. This usually went smoothly, except for the time when Sollux accidently got pulled into a mating ritual with a carnivorous shape-shifter. You had to save his ass and you only laughed at him a lot.

            People still love to watch you bicker. The Connect 4 incident is still an inside joke with your friends. What they don’t know, is that afterwards you fucked him into a Connect 4 table and he spilled genetic material all over everything. So you had to call Dave to have him dress as a firefighter and hose the entire room down.

            After about a year and a half into the relationship, Sollux had stopped responding to you telling him that you were in love with him with “No you aren’t. Love isn’t real. Even if it was, it’s extremely irrational. What people think is love is actually either focused hornyness or a really long infatuation.” and started replying with “with “No you aren’t. Love isn’t real. Even if it was, it’s extremely irrational. What people think is love is actually either focused hornyness or a really long infatuation. I love you too.”.

            A few years after that, you two had finally gotten married. The wedding vows were you saying “Get wrecked, hoe.” over and over. You then immediately divorced, keeping the nature of your relationship exactly the same, just so you could introduce each other as your ex-husbands.

            Your name is Eridan Ampora and you are always happy to be in deep shit with people you love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shitpost and my favorite thing that I've ever written


End file.
